Grace Note
by SideKick55
Summary: Companion to Canon - Aubree's story. Doesn't really make much sense unless you've read that first. You're welcome to anyhow, if you like. Or you can read Canon first!
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: Okay, I know I should be working on Chapter 10. And I am. But this was stuck in my head for a couple days and I had to put it out there or I would go insane.**

**Thanks to my beta, AZBella... did wonders for me in record time. :)**

**Thanks also to Project Team Beta for beta'ing my second draft!**

**This is a companion to Canon. Starts way before Ethan came to town... (If you haven't gotten past Chapter 7 in Canon, I strongly recommend you read that first.)**

**Won't be the whole story, just the highlights. Four or five parts. Enjoy!**

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Part 1

The Music Box

I was born on October 23, 2132. Ten little pink toes, ten little pink fingers. Such a perfect little ball of love and affection that the universe decided it wanted an encore only seconds later. And so my sister was born.

Ava and I were not identical twins, though we had a lot of similarities. Same long, straw-blonde hair. Same high cheekbones. She tended to be a little quieter than I was, a little more reserved, shyer. But she was the smarter of the two of us; I'll definitely give her that.

We hung on each other. Growing up, we depended on each other to fulfill the empty places in our own personalities. Our whole lives we lived this way – separate, balanced, equal, unfinished.

Until the day I was reborn.

It was January 15, 2149.

Will had dragged us all to First Beach on a day that was less than ideal beach weather. The clouds were broken but still around. It was probably something like forty degrees out. It wasn't raining at least, and for that I was grateful.

The boys took off immediately for the shore. They had been talking all day about who would win their stone game. Will swore he could make a tower that was as tall as he was. We all knew he was talking out of his ass, but we nodded along anyway. They pulled off their shoes as they reached the beach, and their socks went flying too. They were running down to the water as fast as they could; little sprays of sand flicked up behind them the whole way.

Charlotte and Ava started the fire. It wasn't a big bonfire like we usually do, just a little campfire to keep warm around while we talked. The girls sat down on one of the weather-worn logs that lay scattered across the beach. They were talking about spring vacation and what little we would make of the time off. It was same conversation we had been having all month long at the lunch table. Charlotte would suggest shopping, Ava would agree and ask where, Charlotte would reply, "Same places we went last year," and Ava would say it was a good idea. I kept quiet, though I could have mouthed the words along with them.

"I'm going for a walk," I announced.

"Okay," Charlotte said. "You'll be back soon?"

I shrugged. "Don't know. Don't wait for me to do the food. I'm not really all that hungry."

"Okay. Have fun," Ava said.

I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my jacket. I heard the conversation picking up again, "Well, where do you think we should go?"

I shuffled up the beach. The wind was blowing past me, burning my ears and nose. I could still hear Will's echoing taunts bouncing off the rocks. The sky was gray and the water matched, save for the white caps that peaked out in the distance. I was wearing four layers: underwear, tee shirt, heavy sweater, and coat.

It wasn't like I could have known that those layers would nearly kill me. Or maybe it was the walk that did it. Or the rocks. Or the rain that had hit that morning. Or the tide or…or…

Truth is, it was not one of these things, but all of them. Still to this day I wonder how my life would be now if I had just one tiny element different. Dry instead of wet. No coat. South instead of north.

I walked for a half mile before I couldn't hear anyone anymore, only the scratch of my shoes in the wet sand and the waves crashing to my left. The sun had started to set, though it was hard to see it. The gray darkened slowly – the only evidence there was a sun at all.

I wondered what it would be like to spend the holidays in a place that snowed. We rarely got snow; Forks was always too busy raining to pay attention to the seasons.

I bet it would be nice…

A cabin on a frozen lake.

The hush of the woods, covered in white.

Silence. Cold, perhaps, but very quiet. I could just…think. No distractions.

An outcropping of rock sat in front of me, reaching out towards the waves. The little spit of sand in front of it was already covered in two feet of water. High tide. So I sighed and leaned against the rocks, telling myself to turn around and go back to the camp.

But Will would be shouting about his rocks right about now or goading everyone into a contest of who could stand knee-deep in the freezing water the longest.

Don't get me wrong; Will Yorkie is my best friend, but some days…I just hate that kid.

No, I didn't head back to camp.

Out on the distant water, there was a pair of blinking lights, one red, one white, heading north. I squinted to see what it was – a shipping freighter headed for Port Angeles most likely. But the guess wasn't enough; I wanted to _know_.

Why did I care? I have no idea.

I climbed the up the rocks. Going up was always the easy part. I was a little winded when I reached the top; it was steeper than it looked from below.

And then, after all the effort, the boat was only five feet closer to me. I don't know why I thought the height would help at all. I still couldn't read the words on the side of the boat. The red and white lights blinked a steady rhythm, growing dimmer with distance and weather. It faded off, northbound.

It had been somewhere else; it was headed somewhere else. It had purpose.

And then it was gone. The sky was endless gray again. The horizon was an unbroken line. My face was starting to get wet in the spray of the ocean.

What a ridiculous waste of time.

I sat down on the flattest rock of the pile, letting my legs dangle.

Ava and I had recently started talking about colleges. Every time I suggested a school, she agreed it would be a good place to go. She never mentioned any dreams of going somewhere else or even gave the impression that we would part ways after high school. I was growing annoyed at the idea of her tagging along for the rest of my life. At the same time, whenever I had the thought of going off by myself, I couldn't imagine being able to survive without her. She was my buffer, my filter, my interpreter.

The sky was nearly black when I started back down the rocks. There wasn't anything out here for me. I knew it was time to go. I didn't want to be gone too long after dark; I didn't want to worry Ava.

The rocks were slippery, and climbing down made things difficult. I couldn't see how far I had gone or where the next spot for my foot was. I craned my neck to the right and I could see the water below. I looked to my left and best place to step seemed too far to reach.

My left toe felt out a notch, but as I shifted my weight to rest on that foot, it slipped. I tried to regain my balance by pulling back up to where I was before. The sudden strain on the rock I had been holding caused it to break. Little bits of gravel trickled their way down the ledge. The dust went into my eyes.

I was going to fall.

No. I was already falling.

My hands reached out, clawing at whatever I could reach, but I was sliding downward quickly. Everything was too slick for purchase.

The impact of my body on the surface of the water knocked the wind out of me, and the cold made it difficult to regain my breath. It burned.

My coat swam around me, evolving a life of its own. I struggled against it. I tried to pull the clinging wool off my arms, but it swirled around my arms and my legs, tangling me. I couldn't kick properly, and I found myself going under a few times. My breaths were urgent, desperate whenever my face felt air. I swallowed more salt water than is probably healthy.

What I didn't realize in my battle with the damn coat: I was drifting away from shore, caught in a rip tide.

When I finally broke free, I struggled to stay afloat. I was sputtering, coughing up the salt water I had been breathing in. My limbs were growing numb.

_Aubree, get your act together. Find the shore. Get help._

When you are caught in a rip tide, you should swim parallel to the shoreline until you are free.

I know this now.

Now.

But I didn't know that then, so the moment I spotted the beach, I started kicking towards it. I thought it was an illusion at first, how I didn't seem to be getting any closer. I just figured I was so far out that it would take some time before the beach grew bigger, before the sand appeared under my feet again. But neither of these things happened.

The sweater was a lead weight whenever my arms breached the surface. My muscles strained against the pull. Where was all my adrenaline? Spent on the coat, perhaps. Or maybe it was there, but not enough to save me.

I couldn't feel anything below my knees. I couldn't get a full breath. My teeth were rattling so hard I thought they were going to break for sure.

I was losing the war.

I could see the shoreline still distant as a dream, mocking me.

_I am going to die._

The thought had no emotion attached. It was merely a statement of fact.

I was so cold, but the pain was subsiding. So that was good. It would be peaceful then. My vision blurred, dimmed. I was sinking.

_Thus ended the life of one Aubree Parson._

When I was seven, Grandma June gave me a music box for my birthday.

_Goodbye, Ava. Be happy._

It was pink, square, with a silver design on the top – a violin. It was precious; it was beautiful.

_Hey, Will, I win. I definitely stayed in the water the longest._

But when Ava opened her presents, I saw that Grandma had given her one, too. Pink, with the violin. The same damn one.

_Mom, Dad, thanks for everything. Even the names that both start with "A." I've grown to accept it._

I cried about it. No one knew why I was crying. They tried to get me excited about the cake that was coming, but I wouldn't listen. I grabbed the music boxes and ran upstairs. I was going to throw them out the window.

_Nate, be good to Charlotte. Charlotte, be nice to Nate. I wish I was as lucky as you guys are._

Grandma June followed me. I was sobbing and trying to get the stupid window to open. I dropped the boxes on the floor beside me and pushed a little harder. It wouldn't budge.

_To the students of Forks High, I will miss you. All of you. Even the weird ones._

"Aubree," she said. "What's wrong?"

I only cried louder. The window was locked and I couldn't reach the latch.

To the town of Forks, you tried to be a nice place to live, and sometimes you succeeded. Thanks for the effort.

"Is it about your present?" she asked. She sat on the bed and picked the boxes up off the floor. She had my attention.

_I don't deserve this._

"You gave us both the same thing," I said. I wiped my nose on the sleeve of my sweater.

She shook her head. "They look that way, don't they?" She turned the key on the bottom of one. "This is Ava's."

"How do you know?" I asked. The tears started to subside.

I don't want to die.

"Listen." The plinking music started as she opened the box. Soft, slow, beautiful. Years later I would know the song by name – Pachelbel's _Canon_.

I want to…

"And this is yours." She opened the other box. The music was faster, more lively. "'The Entertainer,'" she said, and chuckled.

In the here and now, I was smiling along with Grandma June. Even as I sank further, I smiled…until I couldn't feel my face anymore.

The music went on in my head, _plink plink plink plink, plink plink, plink plink…_

And everything went dark.

***

Up.

It was a good thing.

There were things I had done…I had a minor worry that perhaps I was going to be sent down instead. But I guess the verdict was in my favor because the sensation was definitely up.

Pulling.

I couldn't see anything. "The Entertainer" kept up a loop in the background.

_Grandma June, I'm coming. Can you hear me?_

There was effort in the sensation, which some distant part of me thought was wrong somehow. Could the dead feel? Whatever was the afterlife equivalent to equilibrium told me that my motion wasn't steady, wasn't fluid. It had drag to it.

And then the feeling was gone. But there was no bright light, no loved ones were waiting.

_Saint Peter, where are you?_

There was pain. There was movement. Inside and out – like knives and tiny needles. And heat beyond measure. It was too much. Delusion or dream, I don't know, but I was starting to burn. Maybe the verdict wasn't up after all.

_I'm sorry! Whatever I did…_

Someone was pushing on me. My world was enveloped in two beats, coordinated, expanding and contracting. And someone was counting.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six…" The voice was low, rough, strained. "C'mon!"

Knives rushing in, knives rushing out.

And then the counting stopped. The knives continued, but at a slower, less painful rhythm. If it was hell, it wasn't so bad anymore. It still hurt but…

The knives faded. I slipped away. I escaped.

***

It was more peaceful after that. Not too hot. Pin pricks every once in a while, but even they were growing duller.

I was warm again. There was a languid softness all around me. There wasn't even the hint of a dream. Just blackness. But I didn't mind; I was comfortable. After the exhaustion of death, I was finally at peace. And this piece smelled like the forest after a rain, like the air and earth and sea all rolled into one. It was home. And I was safe.

Until I was ripped away by a heart-wrenching scream. There was a sudden brightness. Jostling. A loud voice behind me.

Everything happened very quickly then.

"Sorry! You must be…I'm…" It was a man's voice.

My eyes were blinking, adjusting themselves to the light. I was just starting to realize that I even _had_ eyes.

I was alive.

I was lying on a bed in a small room. The walls were a soft green. There was a dresser against the far wall with a standing lamp beside it. The bed was moving.

The screaming that woke me up turned to words. "Oh God! Are you okay?" Ava's voice, closer. She was a blurry shape coming at me, but even with my eyesight as it was, I could recognize the color of her hair, the height of her.

"I don't know," I replied. The bed quieted.

"C'mon. Let's go. Mom and Dad…" She lifted my arm and I sat up. The room spun for a minute. My legs didn't really want to move.

"Maybe I should carry her," the man's voice said, low and gentle.

"No," Ava replied. "She can walk." And then quieter, to me, "You can walk, right?"

"Yes." I wasn't sure if it was the truth or not. I leaned against her and she helped pull me to a standing position. I winced; everything was sore, but we took a step forward. And then another. The muscles protested, but they were doing their job anyway.

Behind us, the voice said, "I'm sorry if I…I'm just sorry I…"

We didn't stop. We wove our way through the little house. Two children were sitting on a couch in the living room, watching us with wide eyes. There was a tall guy standing by the doorway, staring at us. He was a long hazy shape, gangly, and as we grew closer I could see his knees were knobby.

"Hey," he said. "Are you okay?" He put up his hand to stop us. I flinched away.

"Let her go," the more familiar man's voice said. I turned to look at him once before I left, but my eyes still weren't working very well. He was just a blur.

We walked out into the night air. There were headlights up at the edge of the road.

"Mom is…scared," Ava whispered. Our footsteps crunched against the pine needles and sticks. Our breath clouded up in front of us. "Please try to shrug this off, at least in front of her. She'll keep you inside for the next three months if—"

"Got it," I replied. I picked up my pace despite my screaming muscles.

I heard a car door slam. Mom was rushing at me. Her hair caught the light from the car and looked like a halo. An avenging angel.

"Did they hurt you?" she asked. There was a frantic edge to her voice. Her eyes ran over me, checking for damage. "Are you okay? What happened?" Her fingers caught hold of my shoulders and gave a testing squeeze.

"I'm fine," I said.

She reached up to my forehead and ran her fingers lightly over the skin there. I winced.

"Oh, Aubree," she said, a broken sob cutting through my name. She pulled me into a hug, and I managed not to groan. "Where have you been? I was so worried."

"I'm fine, Mom," I said.

"Get in the car, okay?" she said. "I'll be right back."

"What are you doing?" I asked. She was already walking down the hill towards the house. She didn't reply. I turned to Ava. "What is she doing?"

"I'm sure it's okay. She'll be right back."

"I just want to go _home_."

Ava opened the back door for me and I cringed my way into the car. I finally had a moment to look myself over. My skin was red. My hands were raw. I was wearing an old, baggy gray sweater and black sweat pants. Warm, dry, and definitely _not mine_.

I watched out the window as Mom reached the house. There was a tall figure taking up the front doorway, silhouetted in the yellow light from the living room. He ran a hand through his hair and hung his head. Mom was gesturing to the car with one hand; the other was balled into a fist. I couldn't hear what they were saying.

My own fists were protesting. I had them clenched around my…_the_ sweater. I was leaning forward on the seat.

And yet, I was still so tired. My eyelids drooped despite my best efforts to keep them open.

The man was talking. After a moment, Mom relaxed. Her fists went slack, her shoulders slumped. She must have been saying something, because the man was utterly still. She reached her right hand forward and…

The man nodded at her. He backed into the house and shut the door.

She stood on the porch for a couple seconds, staring at the door, and then started back up the hill.

"You're really okay…right, Aubree?" Ava asked from the front seat.

"I think so."

The driver's door opened and Mom got inside. She sighed.

"We should probably take you down to the hospital before we go home," she said. "Just to be safe."

"Okay," I replied.

Mom backed up and pulled out onto the road. I looked down at the little house. In the light of the window there was a silhouette watching us drive away.

My heart was beating quickly, but it was beating. The air in my lungs picked up pace and scraped against my raw windpipe. But I was breathing.

I survived.

But, all things considered, I wasn't sure I could live it down.

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**What did you think? Anyone like Aubree a little more? I know I do.**


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: A big thanks to my beta, AZBella, who saved me from hating this completely.**

**Thanks to you all who reviewed. I'm glad to hear anything you guys have to say. It really helps me work faster. I always read that in other author's notes, and never really believed, but it is 100% true that the reviews make you want to work on it more. So thanks for that! **

**Tuesday is still Canon day. Not sure when the next of these will come. I've already started it, but it takes place a couple chapters down the road in Canon, and I don't want this one to run ahead and spoil things. (Maybe it won't spoil, exactly but...)**

**Thanks also to the lovely folks at Project Team Beta for helping with my second draft. :) I love you guys. For reals.  
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**I sound a little crazy, don't I? I blame this. It made me crazy. I hope you like it.

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Part 2

They Say Grass Stains Are Hard to Get Out

The weeks that followed my almost-drowning were filled of pensive hours spent alone in my room. A lot of people say that near-death experiences give them a new, more spirited attitude toward life. I did not have that reaction. Yes, I was glad I was alive, but I was none too pleased with the way I had been brought back.

I refused to go anywhere near the ocean; I couldn't be seen there. The morning after, I woke up sore, stiff, and utterly embarrassed. I took the sweater and sweat pants off as soon as I realized I was still wearing them. They were rolled into a ball and shoved into the deepest, darkest recesses of my closet, hopefully never to be seen again.

Because I am – even though I sometimes refuse to acknowledge the fact – a teenage girl. I had been spared from death at the expense of my fragile ego.

I mean, what does it really matter if they all saw me naked?

It all came back to that soft, low voice, and how I couldn't bear that whoever he was, he had seen all of my flaws. I should have been more upset about the rocks, and water, and pain, but all I could think about was that warm arm around me, the smell of him…

And the look on his face if he ever saw me again.

If I could even recognize him.

I would know him by the sympathetic smile that would become a chuckle when I turned my back. Not to mention the gang of Quileute boys who were sure to whistle at me.

The biggest problem was _I didn't know_. I hadn't remembered a single thing from that night, save for the beginning and the end. So I had no idea how bad it had been, what I had looked like, what they had to _do_ to get me alive again. Every spare minute I had, I wondered about what exactly had happened in those lost hours – the time between my delusional acceptance and the moment Ava screamed me awake. Who pulled me out of the water? Did they give me CPR? Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?

Maybe it was a blessing that I didn't have to know exactly what happened, but the maybe was eating away at me every day.

And then in walks Ethan Powell with his run-down sneakers and vast array of blank tee shirts. And just because he knows how to drive, and throws enough eye to Ava, we have to find ways to make his stay in Forks _interesting_. Let's face it: this is hard to do.

It was Will's idea of course. They're always Will's ideas. At least he warned me about it first.

We were on our way to the cafeteria from Spanish. He looped his arm around my neck – never a good sign.

"I'm bringing up the beach again today. It's going to happen, love."

I groaned. "Why? Why does it _have_ to happen?"

"Because we cannot ignore half the appealing things about Forks. And, more to the point, you need this."

"Why do I need this?" I hissed.

He turned my chin so I would look him in the eye. I didn't give him the satisfaction. I looked off to the shaved part of his head.

"I think you know why," he said.

"I'm not afraid of the beach, Will."

"I know this."

My throat was starting to grow tight. "I just don't want to go anymore."

He nodded. "Which is why you should."

I coughed to regain my voice. "Did you get some sort of degree in human behavior in the ten minutes a day we don't see each other? Are you a psychologist now?"

He grinned. "Just call me Doctor Yorkie."

"No. Because we both know you spend those ten minutes thinking about the French cousin."

That got him off my back, literally. He pulled his arm from around me and stopped walking. I didn't wait for him. It was a horrible thing to say, a horrible button to push, and I regretted it almost two seconds after I said it, but I had to. For whatever reason, I couldn't talk to him about the beach. I opened the door to the cafeteria and went to join Nate and Charlotte who were already sitting at our table.

"Hey, Aubree, maybe you can settle the bet," Nate said. "Charlotte thinks I'm not going to be voted prom king."

"Won't prom settle this bet for you?" I asked.

"I didn't say you _won't _be voted prom king, hon," Charlotte said. "I said you couldn't be voted prom king."

"Why?" he asked. He stole a bite of her yogurt.

"Because I'll never get voted prom _queen_. And I don't want you dancing with the other girls."

_Oh man. Gag me._

"Of course you could be prom queen." He picked up the spoon from the yogurt and fed her a bite. "You would be the best prom queen."

_Honestly. Where is a distraction? Where is my razorblade?_

Ava always had good timing. She took the seat next to me, still sulking about the episode with Ethan from the day before. She had been pouring her heart into the guy, and he had the nerve to stare at Bella Black.

"I just want him to like me, Aubree," she whispered. "Why doesn't he like me? Am I that horrible to look at?"

"Not possible. You look too much like me."

She smiled a little. "I just hate that he has a crush on her. Why do they all have crushes on her?"

"It's a phase, a rite of passage for every male citizen of Forks. I bet Mr. Barrett has a thing for Rosalie."

She chuckled. "Ew. Gross."

Will finally found a seat across from me. He was leaving an open slot between Ava and himself. We all knew who for.

"You encourage bad things, my friend," I said.

"I make the world a better place, my friend," he replied. He leaned across the empty chair to Ava. "Listen, E and I had a heart to heart. He's not into her. Swears it on his mother's grave."

"His mother isn't dead, Will," Ava said.

"Well, whatever. Swears it on something else extremely important. Swears it on tapioca pudding."

"Well…" I said. "If he swears it on tapioca then it must be truth. None of this discreditable chocolate nonsense."

"Exactly," he replied. "Please give him a second chance, girls."

"Why?" I asked. "Exactly why should I give any kind of quarter to stupid Ethan Powell?"

He turned to me and narrowed his eyes. "Because people can do a lot of things in _ten minutes_. They can learn to forgive and forget."

I sighed.

"What does that even mean?" Ava asked.

"Never mind," I said. "He's right. He looked at the girl. You should talk to him about it at least. For all you know, he was thinking about his sister back home."

Ava shook her head. "He doesn't have a sister."

"Tapioca, Aub," Will said. "He was thinking about tapioca."

"Right."

Ethan joined us at the table. The guy looked a little uncomfortable as he took the chair that Will offered. I will admit this made me smile. He stared at his soup and didn't say a word.

Will took a deep breath. This is how he did things. Big announcements. Drama. "Beach is going to happen."

I sighed. It was done.

"Sorry, darlin'," he continued. "You knew it was coming. It had to happen."

He did warn me. And as the consent rolled around the table, I knew I wasn't going to be able to hold out alone for long.

***

Friday showed up sooner than I would have liked. Sure enough, it was sunshine, wonderful air, and happy beach thoughts from everyone. I spent the majority of the day sulking because I didn't like being pushed around.

I told myself I wasn't afraid, and, not that I would ever admit it, Will was right. I had to go back. Not because I needed to face my fear exactly, but because I couldn't let all these imagined scenarios rule my life. I didn't know what happened. So what? It could have just as easily been something _not_ embarrassing. I couldn't just never go to the beach again, just because I wasn't sure how bad it was.

I tagged along with Will, Ava and Ethan. I watched Ethan help Ava over the rocks, and I allowed a small measure of appreciation for the guy. He was doing his best. When we hit the shore, Will went off, running and screaming a greeting to the beach. And possibly alerting the locals that we were visiting.

_Damn it, Will._

I put on my jacket. I wanted baby steps. Beach today, locals another day. Maybe some distant day both, but not _today_.

"Where's he going?" Ethan asked.

"Who knows," Ava replied.

I walked over to one of the driftwood logs and sat down, flipping up my hood. Ava and Ethan were flirting in the background and I knew Will wasn't coming back any time soon. This was going to be some fun. I tied my drawstrings tight around my face.

"You want to go, Aubree?" Ethan asked.

I shook my head. This was what Ava wanted anyway. "Don't worry about me. Go ahead. Nate and Charlotte will be here soon."

The surf was rolling forward, sighing and crashing. It looked annoyed that it didn't get to have me for keeps. I stuck my tongue out at the waves. I listened to Ethan and Ava's footsteps as they crunched their way south.

When Will and I were kids, we didn't like each other much. His mother, Vanessa, often brought him over to our house so we could play while she got a chance to have a little adult time with Mom. Ava and I were inseparable then, finished sentences for each other. And poor little Will didn't really fit into the dynamic at all. Not to mention he was a boy, and everyone knows boys have cooties.

He drew mustaches on our dolls. We left him out of tea parties. He put mud in our hair. We put bows in his. We fought a lot. But I'll never forget what Will taught me.

We were seven. I was swinging on the set in the backyard, and Will came running out the back door along with Ava. Ava was faster, lighter on her feet, so she got to the swing next to me first. Will wasn't going to let that stand in the way. As Ava reached for the chain, he shoved her to the grass. Ava started to cry.

"Will!" I shouted, jumping off of the swing. "I'm telling your mom!"

"Ava's a baby," he replied. "I didn't even push that hard."

"It doesn't matter. You pushed her."

"She fell too easy. It's just 'cause I'm a boy. And boys are stronger."

He was right. This was something I knew for a fact.

And then I shoved him to the grass.

"Hey!" he said. "What did you do that for?"

"Because boys are stronger," I said. I held a hand out to Ava. She wiped her eyes and I helped her pull herself up. She was giggling by the time she was standing. Will had green grass stains on the back of his orange sweat pants.

Boys were stronger, but that didn't mean I was _weak_.

Will came running down the beach, blue-chested and ridiculous. He was holding his shirt in his hand.

"Aubree," he said. He slowed to a walk as he reached the circle of wood. "Where did Ava and E go?"

"They went the other way. I think they were trying to get away from your screaming."

"I wouldn't have left you all by your lonesome if I had known they were leaving."

"You had to shout your hello to the water."

He shrugged and sat down beside me. "Well. Yeah."

"You really think Ethan likes her?" I asked.

"Doesn't matter at this point, does it?" He pulled his shirt over his head. "Have we heard from Nate and Charlotte yet?"

"Nope."

"Listen…" He put his hand on my knee. "I don't know the whole story. I know you had trouble in the water. I know the tanned gods of La Push came to rescue you. But you never talk to me about it. You know?"

"Because I don't want to talk about it. I want to _forget_ about it."

"How is that working out for you?"

"I'll let you know."

"I'm just doing my part."

I turned my gaze back to the shoreline "Right. Got it. You know everything. I came along for the fun, didn't I?"

"Yeah. You're being a lot of fun."

"Leave me alone, Will."

"If that's what you really want."

Behind us, Nate and Charlotte called out from the rocks. They were climbing down with a big picnic basket. Will stood and waved and went to help them in.

I kept my spot on the driftwood.

The gang hauled the basket over. The boys went to the task of gathering wood for the fire, and Charlotte sat next to me, rummaging through all the food she had brought. She offered me a water, and I declined. We gossiped about Ethan and Ava and what exactly was going on as they "walked," and then, as Charlotte couldn't help herself, the conversation turned to Nate.

"How long until they're stacking rocks?" she asked.

I pursed my lips. "After the fire, maybe. I guess it depends on how hungry they are."

"Sure." She laughed. "Do you think Nate will win today?"

I didn't care. "Maybe."

Will and Nate came around the corner, each with a small bundle of wood. But it didn't look like as much as they usually brought, and then I realized why.

Behind them, three of the local boys were carrying wood as well. They laughed along at something Will shouted back to them. Tall, tan, and every bit a piece of my personal nightmare.

"Get Ava. I don't care what she's doing. Go get her," I whispered to Charlotte. She nodded and took off down the beach.

I stood up from the circle. The boys were unloading wood into the center, trying to keep it in a neat pile, readying it for the fire. I stalked my way to the rocks and leaned back, praying they wouldn't come over to ask questions of the quiet girl. I pulled the drawstrings tighter and closed my eyes.

_The Entertainer_ picked up a loop in my head. I hummed along.

After a few minutes, I heard Ava's quick footsteps as she ran over. She was breathless.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't think they'd come. Or…I guess I just hoped they wouldn't."

"You and me both," I muttered. "I want to go home, Ava."

"Okay. We can go home. Just give me a moment to say goodbye to Ethan, and make sure he knows his way back…" Her face was flush. She smiled.

I groaned. "You two were kissing, weren't you?"

"Well…yeah."

"We don't have to go home if you don't want to."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I'm sure. Just…keep them away from me."

I really hated Ethan Powell in that moment.

"Won't be that hard. Is it the same guys? Are they the ones…?"

"I don't know."

"Okay."

I could feel the warmth of the fire from where we stood at the rocks. I was starting to shiver. A wind had picked up as the sun sank lower. The tide was coming in.

"C'mon," Ava said. "Let's go for a walk. When we get back the boys are bound to be off being rock-stacking idiots."

"Even Ethan?" Though we both knew I wasn't really asking about Ethan.

_I can do this._

"Even Ethan." She had a smile in her voice. She liked it that he was getting along with them.

She hooked her arm in mine and dragged me down the coast the way they had gone just minutes before. We were silent through the walk; I think she was waiting for me to talk about it. But I knew that if I did, because I was where I was, I would just end up crying. And I really didn't want to return to the group with a red face.

When we got back I wandered over to the left side of the circle. It helped to be around the fire. I was more comfortable in the heat, and it was easier to ignore where I was. I traced spirals in the sand as Ava ate. I didn't look beyond the drawings I made or the flickering orange and blue just in front of me.

But I was still shivering.

"You want something to eat?" Ava asked.

"Not in the slightest," I replied.

The boys left for their game and it gave me a chance to look around. I studied their postures, their shapes, trying to figure out if any of them were there that night. I was pretty certain I had seen the gangly tall one, but I wasn't sure about the other. And there had been a third…the littler one – not that any of them were _little_. He was gone. But he wasn't very familiar either.

That didn't mean much. I had lost hours.

When they started back up to the campsite, I went to drawing my sand shapes and let the hood fall over my face. I didn't think they recognized me really; they would have said something at this point. But I wasn't going to take the chance anyhow.

And then, beside me, Ava froze.

A pair of tanned bare feet stepped in front of me. I held my breath and looked up.

He was standing with a grocery bag in his hand. He scratched his shoulder and held it down to me.

"It's all there, I think," he said. "Just wanted to make sure you got your stuff back."

I nodded and took the bag from him. I rifled through the contents; it was my clothes.

_Please no._

I kept my face towards the bag. I was waiting for the chuckles, the whistles. "Thanks," I muttered.

"Yeah," he replied. I heard the sand under his feet as he shifted his weight to walk back the way he had come.

I had to say something. "Tell the rest of them thank you too." I looked up at him once more, actually seeing him this time. His face. There was no mockery, only a sad smile, and a line of worry in his forehead. "I'm sorry I—"

I owed him everything. I owed them all everything.

And I had avoided them like the plague.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Really."

I couldn't say anything else. My throat was closed, the tears were running down my face. And everyone was watching.

Did it really matter?

Ava wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you so much. You don't even know."

In the distance, a tall silhouette watched over us. A tall, broad-shouldered, familiar silhouette.

I wasn't sure I could take it if _he_ came over to talk. It would be too much. I would collapse on the sand and I would be in need of CPR again. My poor heart didn't want to have to face it all at once.

"Like I said, don't worry about it." Ava let go of the guy and he looked back down at me. "Stay safe? Okay?"

I nodded, blushing, and went back to my sand, mentally chanting for them all to just go away. My heart was pounding out its protests.

When the footsteps were distant enough and the talking and laughter took over again, I looked back up. Beyond the fire and our little circle, there was an uninterrupted line of dying light.

The silhouette was gone.

* * *

**Questions? Thoughts? Comments? **

**In part three we get to some stuff that no one knows happened. But we have to carry forward in Ethan's world first.**


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n: Originally, I thought this would only be like four or five parts total. I'm starting to think that just won't work. The more I write of this, the less it will let me skimp on certain things.**

**Thanks to AZBella for looking over it. :) Thanks to the girls at [t20s] for being excited about it and asking me to continue. Thanks to Project Team Beta for helping me make my second draft better than my first. Thanks to the fans who took a chance on **_**Canon**_** and are taking a chance with this too.**

**I warn now, and apologize, as I am frequent to do…this is completely evil. The cliffie is horrible and cruel and I am sorry. But it had to be done.**

**The song for this chappie is **_**We're So Far Away **_**by Mae.

* * *

**

Part Three

Laundry of Life

Ava had a date with Ethan that weekend. Saturday she went into town and got her hair done at the local salon – something we usually only did together. I think she even splurged and got her nails done too. At least, she was gone long enough to.

I stayed home. This was my new life: the homebody. Who would have thought that between the two of us, Ava would become the social butterfly and I the wallflower? I spent the day doing homework and ignoring Will's online nagging. He wanted me to go with him to spy on Ava in Port Angeles, to throw things at them from a few rows back. I wasn't going to do that to her though. Not on her big day.

When she got home that night I peeked out the curtain to try to see just how far things were going between them, but they weren't on the porch. Maybe it was for the best; I couldn't live my whole life though her, and it was a little creepy for me to watch. I ran downstairs as soon as I saw her walking up the driveway.

She stepped across the threshold smiling like an idiot. "Well that was fun."

Dad was in the living room; I could hear him lift himself off the couch. "Don't I even get to meet the guy? Where is he?"

"I sent him home, Dad." She closed the front door and leaned up against it. "I didn't really want him to have to talk to you yet."

"He should have wanted to introduce himself. What kind of guy doesn't meet the parents?" He folded his arms across his chest.

I stood up from the stairway. "Dad. They're not getting married. Take a breath."

He seemed to take the hint and left, grumbling, to join Mom in bed. He had to give us one last word as he passed us to go upstairs. "Next time, I get to meet him or you're not going out."

Ava nodded solemnly.

"Okay," he replied. "Night, girls."

"Night, Dad," we replied in unison.

We listened to his footsteps trail down the hallway and turn into his room. When the door shut, Ava's face brightened.

"That good, eh?" I asked.

She started to take off her coat. "Well, not really, no."

"No?"

"Well, not until the end, no." She fished her compact and a lip gloss out of the pocket. Her hand went back in. "What the…?"

She pulled out a clove of garlic.

"Since when did you start carrying garlic in your pockets? Is this some sort of home remedy? Aphrodisiac?" I asked.

"I didn't put it in there, I swear. Weird."

She threw the little bit of garlic away and proceeded with her story. "He fell asleep through the whole movie."

"What?"

"He slept. The whole thing. And I thought things were going so well, aside from his hair, and his sweater."

"What happened to his hair?"

She opened her mouth, and closed it again. She started making gestures with her hands on top of her head like a pair of rooster combs. "I…I…don't know how to describe it. There are no words."

I chuckled. "Was this on purpose?"

"No." She slipped off her heels and held them in her hand. "I don't know how…he dried off on the rail, sat over the fan… I don't know."

"That kid needs to get it together and just always have a hood ready."

"He had a hood! That's the part that gets me."

I leaned against the wall by the staircase. "Anyways, you were saying, he fell asleep?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "I was really kinda mad at the end of the show. I mean he's sitting there snoring a little bit. I had to shake him awake."

I chuckled. "Sounds like you had a fantastic time."

"And then at the end of the night he looks at me, all sad puppy eyes because he thinks he's ruined everything. He asked…" She paused for drama. "If he could kiss me goodnight."

"So? Haven't you kissed him before?"

She groaned. "God, Aubree. You are in no way romantic. It wasn't about the kiss – well that part was good – it was more about the lead in. He asked permission. He _asked_."

"Ah."

"And you should have seen the look on his face. It was like…like…a plea almost." She sighed again.

"How…romantic?"

She shook her head. "Never mind."

We headed upstairs and she didn't lose the smile. She looked at the floor as she walked, chuckling softly to herself.

"So, are you going out again?" I asked as we reached our bedroom doors. Our rooms were across the hall from each other, mirrored layouts. Perhaps there was a metaphor for our lives in that, but I wasn't going to analyze it too much. They were just rooms.

She nodded. "Friday."

"Good."

There was an awkward silence. She sighed. Again. "Yeah."

"Well…I guess this is goodnight."

"Night."

I walked into my room and shut the door behind me. The moonlight came through the window, casting a blue glow over everything, so I didn't bother with the light. I was already dressed for bed anyhow. I had been in my pajamas all day.

I climbed under the sheets and stared at the ceiling. There was a low strain of music coming through the door seams from Ava's room.

She was happy. That's what mattered most.

***

Sunday was laundry day; I kept my pajamas on again as I sorted through all the clothes I had been neglecting. Mom was firm on our laundry duties. She refused to do it after we turned fifteen. The machine wasn't hard to use, she said, and she was not a slave.

Not to mention, between the two of us, we had a lot of clothes.

Ava was good about it; she did it weekly. I, on the other hand, often let it build up over the course of the month until it was overflowing into my room from the hamper in my closet. When I couldn't close the door anymore, I knew it was time to get to work. It usually took up the whole day.

That particular Sunday, I didn't really mind.

I was sorting the darks and lights, listening to music in my headset, when I pulled the baggy gray sweater and black sweat pants from their hiding place in the corner. I sat them on my lap and ran my hand over them once, letting the goose bumps have their moment.

They still smelled like him, and in some ways that was worse than the clothes themselves. If I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, I could almost imagine myself lying on that bed, in that tiny room…

I shook my head. It was just a sweater. They were just sweat pants. They had nothing to them that was really dangerous. And the smell was easy enough to get rid of; I just had to toss them in with the rest of the wash.

I stood up and held them over the pile of darks. I hesitated and pulled them back once. Not because I wanted them to stay the way they were but because…well I have no idea why. I just wasn't sure how I could just treat them the same as everything else. Because they had meaning.

It was silly and exactly what I needed to do if I was ever going to get past the whole incident.

I dropped them into the pile.

It was hard to lose them in the mess as I loaded the machine. Every time I bent down to pick up something new from the basket, they shouted at me from the heap. Exasperated, I grabbed them both in one handful and tossed them into the first load.

But that meant they would come out first, too.

I let that thought sit next to the washing machine and went back upstairs.

***

As the laundry tossed, I napped. And as I napped, I dreamt.

In my dream I was stepping off the rail at school. Will was next to me, talking about his latest victory at a hot dog eating contest. Ava and Ethan were just behind me, hand in hand, laughing. I wasn't sure why they found his story so funny. It turned out that he only ate three. He won because no one else entered.

And then Will turned to me. "Aren't you ever going to give it up?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be stupid, Aub. Just _give it up_."

Ethan and Ava laughed harder.

When I turned back to look at them, their smiles were a little too wide for their faces. They had tears streaming down their cheeks.

"What the hell is so funny?" I asked. Neither of them replied. Ava wasn't walking anymore. She held her free hand to her stomach, doubled over. "Ethan?"

He waved his hand at me and fell to his knees. "Can't…breathe," came out between fits of hysterics.

"What's their problem?" I asked Will.

"They just can't believe you would come to school like that. I mean, _I_ can't believe you would come to school like that."

I looked down at myself. I was wearing the baggy gray sweater and black sweat pants.

_Oh God._

I took off running for the girls' locker room. Anything would be better than this. Gym shorts would be wonderful about now.

"You should just go home!" Will shouted. "That's safer!"

The locker room wasn't empty. The girls' swim team was coming in from the pool, in their bathing suits and towels. Behind them, our mascot – a Spartan in a Speedo – came in with his towel in his hand. I didn't realize guys were allowed in the room. But then, he _was_ the mascot; maybe he was exempt from all rules.

"I am exempt from all rules!" he shouted. Turned out I was right.

I walked as quickly and quietly as I could to my locker. I was already pulling the bottom of my sweater up over my head. When I got there, I opened the door and pulled out the tee shirt and shorts from the bottom. I threw the sweater inside. I started to pull on the shirt but…

…I was still wearing the sweater.

Or…another sweater, or something. The one I had taken off was in the locker – I could see it – but I still had baggy gray sleeves covering my arms.

I lifted it over my head – again – and threw it into the locker.

And there was another one underneath.

"Agh!" I screamed. I pulled the new incarnation of the sweater off and tossed it onto the growing pile.

I could hear a little tittering of giggles from my left. I looked over – as I was pulling another sweater off – and saw the swim team laughing at me. Ethan and Ava were in the group too, near the back. Will was there, waving a flag that read, "Go Aubree!"

It didn't matter that I was in danger of showing my underwear to the crowd that was forming. I didn't seem to mind that risk. I just wanted to get the thing _off_.

Or maybe I knew there was just another one underneath, so it couldn't really bother me.

If so, I was right.

The anger had dissolved into frustrated tears. I pulled another sweater off and dropped it into the locker. It was almost full now. One of the sweaters fell onto the floor.

I collapsed. I was holding my hand over my eyes, cradling my head. And, of course, I was still wearing the damn sweater and sweat pants.

"Can I help you?" the Spartan asked. He was really close now, holding a tissue out to me.

I shook my head. "I can't get my sweater off."

"Oh," he replied. "Yeah. I can't help you with that."

I looked back at the laughing crowd. Will's banner had changed. It read, "Go Home, Aubree!"

The Spartan kneeled down next to me. He smiled. "You need help with the pants?"

I flinched away from him and clambered up to stand. "Get away from me!" The tears were running down my face, dripping onto the gray cotton. They left little black splotches across the front.

The little giggling Greek chorus laughed in unison. Will waved his flag. It said, "Home of the Spartans!"

I couldn't take it anymore. Will was right. Home was my only option.

I took off down the aisle, weaving my way through the rows of lockers to get to the door. When I reached the door, I paused for a moment to pull on the handle. The chorus was following me.

When I hit open air, I didn't stop running. I saw the rail in the distance and knew I had to get on or else they would catch up. They were running as well, just behind me. The girls must have been cold. A lot of them were only in their suits, and their hair was still wet.

The rail doors were closing. I ran faster. I pulled off a sweater as I went, and threw it back at the crowd.

"Leave me alone!" I shouted. The tearstains on my sweater were still there, and then it started to rain.

I reached the rail just as the doors closed. I pounded on it to open again, but it was a machine that knew no better. It clicked and hummed and took off for the next stop on the line.

The crowd marched forward. They were all wearing masks now – of my face. It was weird to see Will's body with my head. His flag read, "I'm Never Going Home! Go Spartans!"

They stopped just a yard in front of me. They were no longer laughing. They were each wearing one of the gray sweaters I had left behind. One of the girls stepped forward. She was taller than the others, in jeans and shoes. She lifted her mask.

It was my mom. "Oh, honey," she said. Her voice was muffled, even though she was just in front of me. She brushed her hand across my cheek, wiping away a tear. "Your laundry is done."

"What?" I asked.

There was a knocking noise around me. "Aubree! You in there?"

And then I woke up.

I was lying on my bed. Mom's voice came through the door. "Honey?"

"Yeah, Mom. I got it." And I lifted myself up to go back downstairs.

I tried to shake the dream as I went. It was ridiculous, after all. Will would never enter a hot dog eating contest…he doesn't even like the stuff unless they're burnt to a crisp.

But that wasn't the point, was it?

Mom was standing by the machine, pulling my clothes out and piling them in a basket.

"I thought we were supposed to do this stuff on our own," I said.

"You've earned a little help, I think." She pulled the last bits from the dryer and handed me the basket. "You've been awful brave. Your sister told me you guys went down to the beach on Friday."

"I didn't go off by myself, I swear."

She nodded. "I know, hon. I'm actually proud of you. It's not an easy thing to do, facing your fears." She wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"I'm not afraid," I said.

"Well…then…that's good." She kissed the top of my head.

"I'm going upstairs now."

"Okay."

I wasn't sure how much of it I could take anymore. The lingering sympathy, the concerned looks that passed between my parents…heck, I even worried that every whispered conversation between Ava and Ethan had something to do with me. Did they think I had changed? Did they worry about my sanity? Were they right to do so?

It was a matter of imbalance. That was the problem. Sure, I had gone to the beach, what a brave girl. But that was only part of the fear.

I had to face it all if I was going to be myself again. I couldn't hide in the house anymore; I couldn't let my life dissolve into the wallpaper of my room. I was holding onto it just as much as I was trying to avoid it, and it would only get worse with time.

So I folded my shirts and hung up my pants. By the time the offending clothes found their way back into my hands, I had come to a decision.

It was time to take off the sweater.

***

After school on Monday, I was standing on his porch with a grocery bag in my hand. Contents: one baggy gray sweater, one pair of black sweatpants, one giant cloud that wanted to hang over my life. My hand had come up to knock about ten times without actually following through on the task. Stupid hand.

I sighed, dropped the bag on the porch, and cracked my knuckles. I could do this. I needed to do this.

_I should have sent Ava. It's not like he would have known the difference._

No, probably not, but it would have defeated the purpose.

I shook my hand out, balled it into a fist and held it up to the door. It was going to happen this time. I tilted my knuckles away slightly and –

"Hey there," a voice called out from behind me.

I was a bright shade of magenta before I even got all the way around.

"Hi," I replied.

It was the not-tallest one. The one who had brought over my stuff at the bonfire. He was holding a wrench in one hand and a rag in the other. He was only wearing a pair of shorts. In the fog and light sprinkle, he was wearing _shorts_.

"Logan," he said. "Logan Ateara."

I nodded. "I remember you. I'm Aubree Parson." My throat was tight, raw.

"You looking for someone?" he asked gently. He wiped the wrench with the rag. There was a smear of something black on his cheek.

"Um." God. I was starting to sound like Ethan. "I have his stuff. I mean…I just wanted to give it back to…"

"Seth."

"Okay. Seth then. I just wanted to give Seth his stuff back."

He looked down to his busy work. "I can give it to him if you want."

Tempting. Almost too much so.

"No. I think I better." I sighed.

He nodded. "Well, he's not home. I'll go see if I can bring him around."

"No," I said quickly. "I mean, I don't want to disturb him if he's busy…"

"It's okay," Logan replied. "Promise. I'm sure he's just around the corner. Two shakes."

"Alright."

He smiled and turned around, heading back the way he had come. When he disappeared through the trees, I found it very hard to get a full breath.

It was real. He was coming.

I was seriously considering leaving the bag on the porch and walking back to the rail.

My heart was reminding me that it existed, and that it too remembered this place, these people, and the problems it had here. It beat out a quick and steady protest: _go home, go home, go home…_

But I ignored it.

It took long enough that I had to sit down. My knees were feeling wobbly. I tried giving silent assurances to my heart that everything would be okay. I took deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I rolled my neck and my wrists in an attempt to spend the anxiety. None of it really worked.

I heard them before I saw them. Not their footsteps, but the noises of the things in the trees that didn't like to get too close to humans. I took one more breath and stood up.

In my mind he had always been a hardened man – stubble on his face, lines in his forehead from too much frowning. I could remember the voice with perfect clarity, but the blur was all I had. Blurs and silhouettes. So I had invented a face to fill in the blanks, and it wasn't a kind one.

The face that came through the trees was not what I had imagined.

He was younger than I expected – early twenties, I guessed. His hair was dark brown, nearing black. His eyes matched. He was a few inches taller than Logan, who lingered back at the edge of the wood.

Seth stepped closer, hesitant. He had his hands in his pockets. He was also only wearing shorts, and this was a little distracting. He wasn't even wearing shoes.

"Hey," he said. "Aubree, right?"

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	4. Chapter 4

**It occurs to me as I'm adding songs to this playlist – all the songs are really Seth's songs. Listen, read, ponder that. The song for this chapter is **_**MFEO Part 2:**__**You Can Breathe **_**by Jack's Mannequin. **

**I had a couple people ask how this timeline is fitting in with Canon. So to clarify:**

**Part 1 – BC (Before Canon. HAHAHAHAAAA! Sorry. Sorry.)**

**Part 2 – Chapter 5/Chapters 7&8**

**Part 3 – Chapters 9, 10, and end of 11 (this is Monday)**

**And now, Part 4 – Still Monday, so it starts at 11 and goes into 12 (Tuesday).**

**Thanks to AZBella for reading this over for me and helping me make it have an actual ending. Kind of.**

**Thanks to Project Team Beta and their betafantastico skillz. **

**This one's for Lindsey, for her support and nudging. And for helping me escape the drama llamas. :)**

**I now issue my standard cliffie warning.

* * *

**

Part Four

The Thrall of a Good Tale

Seth stood across the stretch of dirt and fog, motionless, waiting for some sign of intelligent life from me. Logan lingered in the background. He was just going to let me do this all on my own, wasn't he?

I nodded.

My heart picked up its protests. _Go home, go home, go home… _

"Thanks for stopping by," Seth said. "You didn't have to bring the stuff back."

I coughed. It was the only way I could think to jump-start my vocal cords. "Well, you gave me mine back so…yeah. It was only fair."

"Like I said, thanks."

There. Done. Not too bad.

I was waiting for the pity to come. I was waiting for the knowing smiles between the two of them. Cocked eyebrows and chuckles that hid themselves in coughing. It didn't happen.

My mouth ran away with itself before I could stop to think. "Could we talk for a minute? I just had a couple questions. About…"

His eyes lit up. "Yeah. We could do that."

I was still holding the damn grocery bag. My hands were damp with sweat, and I didn't really want to hand it to him just then. I looked at the bag. "Um…"

"Logan?" Seth asked. He didn't even turn his head. Logan nodded before coming to retrieve the bag, and I dropped it into his waiting arms. I stared after him as he walked into the house.

For a few minutes, neither one of us moved. I was convincing myself that in this particular moment I wasn't on the verge of death. I didn't have a clue what was running through _his_ head. We looked like a couple of freshies in love – looking down at our shoes a couple of times, off into the bushes. But love was definitely _not_ the lingering emotion in the air.

"You'll have to lead the way," I said. "I don't really know the area."

"Of course." He walked towards me and my heart's pleading grew louder. _Go home, go home, go home… _But I froze. Aside from my heart, not a single part of me moved.

He didn't come close enough to touch, but as he passed, I caught a tiny trace of him. I took a breath and he was there in the air: forest and rain and warm and…

…safe.

My shoulders relaxed. My fists let go of themselves; I had fingers again.

He looked over his shoulder. "Are you sure about this?"

I nodded and took a step. And then another. I kept a little distance from him – a yard or so between us. He didn't try to close the gap at all, and he was silent as we walked, waiting for me to start. Once I could gather my wits, I would.

"I washed them. The sweater and pants, I mean," I finally said.

"Thank you. You didn't have to, but thanks."

Another long silence. The crunch of our feet in the needles.

"Did Logan tell you…?" I let the question die. "I mean, I should have come sooner. _I _should have told you, really."

"What's that?"

"I really appreciate what you did for me. Whatever it is that you did that makes me…alive today."

"It's not like we could have left you there." His face paled a little. "But…you're welcome."

I pressed my lips together and kept walking forward. I still had the hard stuff to say and ask. I swallowed and cracked my knuckles.

"You had a question?" he asked gently.

My eyes kept themselves occupied in the leaves and fog we were walking through. "Yeah. I just…" Nothing else would come out. My throat closed itself as soon as the words came to mind.

I coughed again.

He was quiet. An owl called in the trees.

"I just…" I started again, but it wouldn't come out. "God! Sorry. I can't do this. I don't know what's wrong with me." The stupid tears were coming before I could gain control. I wiped my face as quickly as I could.

"It's okay," he replied. "I can't imagine what that was like for you."

I took a deep breath and swallowed again. I spoke in a rush before I could think too much about it and ruin my momentum. "It wasn't like anything really. I don't remember."

"You don't remember? Any of it?"

The tears weren't going to let up, so I paced my upkeep in between my words. "No. Not a damn thing."

"Oh. I thought…well. That night I…"

His stuttering made my breath catch.

"I didn't figure you could forget something like that."

"Like what?" I asked. My hands were fists again. I stopped walking. "What happened to me? I just…I can't live like this anymore. I need to know what happened."

He sighed and stopped along with me. "Are you sure you want to hear it all? I mean…I'll tell you if you want. But, Aubree, it's not a nice story to relive."

"I know that, but if I'm ever going to get a decent night's sleep, if I'm ever going to wake up and not have to wonder anymore…"

He was already nodding. "Okay. Sit down or something, though. Please?"

There wasn't anything to sit on, at least nothing dry. We both looked around for a moment. "That's a little hard to do." A little laugh escaped.

His face brightened a bit; he smiled. "True."

"I mean, you don't even have a jacket," I said. "God, you must be freezing."

His smile grew wider. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. C'mon…" One of his hands came out of its pocket and pointed off to our right. "There's a big rock over here somewhere."

Sure enough, not more than ten feet off the path, there was a giant piece of gray that was only half-covered in moss. It was too big to sit on properly, so I leaned against it.

"Happy?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Usually."

He didn't lean against the rock. He kept his distance, backing up to take a stance in the empty space just in front of me. Our light mood evaporated with the impending story. A hush fell over us as he gathered his thoughts, and it weighed on me. I stared at him and willed the words to come faster.

He started quietly, his eyes on the floor. "I wasn't sure I heard anything at first. Thought it was my imagination. I was running down the beach…exercise, you know?"

I nodded, even though he wasn't looking at me.

"But something about the sound – it was someone shouting, I thought. It was half what I heard and half just…intuition. Someone needed help. So I ran to the edge of the water as the shouting died away. I dove in before I was even sure of where I was going. I just let my arms go forward and hoped it was taking me to whoever was out there.

"When I got there it was like seeing a ghost. You were so far down – a dim figure in the deep. I didn't think, I just dove under the tide and kept kicking.

"Our hands met, and yours was so cold. I pulled and pulled, hoping there was some chance, some little tiny piece of a chance that I wasn't too late. By the time we got to the shore, I was almost convinced you were… I mean, you were so _pale_—" His voice broke. He brought his hand up to his mouth and cleared his throat.

"But I had to try anyway. God, Aubree, you were so cold. And you had no pulse. And I was certain I had lost you as soon as I found you. It was pointless. I was doing CPR and it was a waste. I breathed for you and it was all going to be for nothing. Empty air. Empty everything."

There was a tightening sensation in my chest. I had been holding my breath, and as soon as I realized it, I let it out in a rush of air. I let myself breathe again.

He didn't seem to notice. "I don't know how long it took. It seemed like forever. Waiting for life, waiting for some piece of proof… I was shouting into the woods for help whenever I could. And when I heard the footsteps, I wasn't sure I really wanted them to come. Not because I didn't want help, but because I didn't want them to confirm my fears that I was too late.

"But just as Logan and Trip made it there, so did you. You coughed. And I could have… I was just so _glad_.

"I carried you up to the house. You were still too cold, and I had Trip run down more people to help. His aunt Gloria is a nurse, so he went for her. We were trying to get you warm again – pulling off your shoes and socks and extra sweaters. But she said it had to be your heart first."

He stopped. Maybe he knew this was the part I least wanted to hear. Maybe he was trying to protect me.

I wasn't going to let that happen. "The sweater, Seth. How did I end up in your sweater?"

His eyes met mine. "I made the boys leave. And Gloria did most of the work. I just…helped."

My face burned. I stared down at the ground, no longer able to look at him now that there was just no other possible conclusion.

His voice went quiet again. "And then she said the best way to get you back was body heat. So we laid you down next to me and I did what little I could. I am nothing if not warm.

"When your breathing grew stronger, I hoped you were in the clear. And I couldn't believe it had all turned out so well. I just stayed there next to you, listening to you breathe and wondering at what point I should try to wake you or take you to a doctor or…

"And then your sister came and…well, you know the rest. Right?"

I nodded, still studying the dirt.

"Nothing happened. I know what your sister walked in on probably looked… But _nothing happened_. I swear it. We were just trying to—"

"I know. It's okay. I know. You don't have to apologize. God. Don't say you're sorry for… I mean you saved my _life_. I owe you everything."

"You don't owe me anything."

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I do." I allowed myself one glance at him. He looked puzzled, as if what I was saying really didn't make sense to him. And then I realized… "I know I'm just a girl. But I will find a way to do something."

"Aubree…you—"

"No. Don't try to make this easy just because I'm seventeen and too stupid to know a riptide from a hole in the wall. I will repay you for this. Somehow."

I had stepped away from the rock, closing the gap between us without even noticing. His body heat was strong enough to carry across the little space. He wasn't kidding about the warm thing.

"Whatever you want," he replied.

I shook my head. "That's not really the point, is it?"

"We should get you back." He looked up at the sky. "It's getting dark and there's a storm coming in. I don't want to give your mother another reason to hate me." He turned back the way we had come and started walking.

"My mom doesn't hate you," I replied, but I followed him anyway. "She doesn't."

"Okay then. She doesn't hate me." And then he mumbled something under his breath that I didn't catch.

A roll of thunder sounded, distant and ominous, and we fell quiet again, though this time I was able to walk a little closer. He was right; a storm was on its way. The wind picked up and chilled my nose and fingertips as it passed. He seemed unruffled by it.

Logan wasn't waiting for us on the porch, as I thought he might be. Perhaps he stayed inside to keep warm.

Seth turned up to the main road.

"Well…" I called to him. I couldn't just leave him without at least a send-off. "I guess this is goodbye for now."

He paused. "I'm not going to just drop you here. C'mon, the rail's probably on its way."

I folded my arms across my chest – half in defiance, half because it was really getting cold. "You don't have to walk me up there. I can make it on my own. I do it all the time, you know."

"I know," he replied. "But I'll feel better knowing you actually made it on the thing."

It wasn't like I could deny him anything at this point. I gave in and followed him uphill to the rail stop.

***

All the way home, I thought about the conversation we had, and I wasn't sure how much better I felt for having had it. I really thought that all I had to do was face down that last little fear, figure out what had gone on that night, and be able to thank the person responsible. I thought the moment that happened, I would be back to the same old Aubree everyone knew and loved.

But I wasn't.

I was a little confused.

Seth was…well, he was unexpected. I had thought maybe the band of boys were all witness to my shame. I guess it was a lucky thing that it was only him, or perhaps it was worse that way. I couldn't make up my mind.

I believed him when he said that the nurse came to help, and that he sent them all away. I had known him all of twenty minutes and I still believed him. Maybe it was the naïveté of a teenager, but his eyes didn't look like ones that could lie to me.

But now I had this burden, because I couldn't just go on knowing that he had done this huge, grand gesture, and not try to find a way to repay him. There wasn't anything in the world that I could give him that would be equal, and it wasn't like I was going to get a chance to save his life any time soon.

Ava was waiting on the porch when I got home. She had her knees tucked against her chest with her arms wrapped around them. It was silly of her to be outside in the first place. The sun was just past set and the weather was rolling in.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"I told Mom. I told you. The library."

She tilted her head. "Aubree. We both know that neither one of us ever really goes to the library."

"Well, I did. I actually went to the library. Landmark day."

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But don't lie to me, okay?"

"Okay. Let's just change the subject then."

"Will you tell me someday?" she asked as she stood. She brushed off her pants.

I shrugged. "Don't I usually?"

That answer seemed acceptable to her. "I think the new subject should be Ethan's clothing choices for the day."

"Will has beaten that to death already. I veto this subject change."

"It was a bow tie, Aubree."

"I saw."

We started into the house. Dad was in the kitchen finishing seconds on dinner. Mom was reading in the living room.

"How was the library?" Dad asked. He wiped a stray crumb off his cheek.

"Fine," I replied. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a peach from the bowl of fruit on the counter. It was going to have to substitute for real food. I wasn't hungry.

"There's a storm kicking up out there," he said. "I was about to come down there and drag you home."

"It's just rain, Dad."

Mom walked in with her notebook tucked under her arm. "Did you eat?"

I nodded. "Just wanted a snack."

Ava hooked her arm in mine. "We're going upstairs. 'Night, Mom. 'Night, Dad."

"But she just got home," Mom said. She set the notebook down on the table and ran a hand over my hair. She studied my face. "Did you have a good day?"

"It was fine."

"That's good. Have you been sleeping okay?"

"Just dandy," I replied. I threw a quick look at Ava. _Get me out of here._

"And now we are off to do homework. Lots of stuff to get done," Ava said. "Goodnight." She pulled on my arm and led me over to the stairs. Mom and Dad shouted their goodnights to us as we walked up to her room.

"They're worried about you," Ava said, as she shut the door behind us. "They were talking about you all night. That's why I went outside. So they could talk and I could listen."

"Oh," I replied. "What were they saying?"

"Mom thinks you're getting too pale. And she worries that you're not eating enough."

I sighed. "I am doing just fine in both departments."

"I know that. But she…well, she's Mom."

"Yeah." I sat down on Ava's bed. It was light pink with a white lace overlay. "And what does Dad say?"

"Thinks if there's anything wrong, it must be a boy at fault."

"Ha." _Boy…psh._

"Mom reminded him about the beach, though. And then he got quiet and I couldn't hear what he said after that."

I nodded. "I'll just have to be less pale then." I pinched my cheeks. "And eat more. Or something."

"Hey, remember the time we went camping up at Lake Ozette? And you lost your bear in the water and made Dad go in and fish it out for you?"

"Sure. I still have Mr. Fiddlesticks. He's missing an ear, though."

"I remember thinking that I would have never been able to scream as loud as you did." She sat down next to me and her finger traced the pattern in the lace.

"What can I say? I have a set of pipes on me."

"Why didn't we hear you, Aubree? Why didn't we save you?" Her voice was cracking. And the subject change wasn't lost on me.

"I was very far away," I replied. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"You say that so easily. Don't you hate me a little bit?"

I shook my head. "I can't hate you. It was my own damn fault."

"I should have gone with you."

"I wouldn't have let you come with. I wanted to be alone."

"Will you quit squashing my guilt?" she asked. "Won't you let me apologize? Or do something to make it up?"

"Why?" I asked. "What is the point of that? It's not your fault. Never was. And I'm perfectly fine."

"Perfectly fine?"

"And getting perfectly finer all the time."

"And this is why you snuck off to some distant rail stop to do who knows what this afternoon?"

I shrugged. "I wouldn't have let you come with. I wanted to be alone."

"Ha ha. And we all know how well that turned out."

"Yeah…" I sighed. "I'm hoping I do a lot better this time around."

***

The next day I was stuck in my head. I was trying so hard to come up with something to even things between Seth and me, but it was just impossible. Will sat next to me on the rail and I tuned out as he bothered Ethan and Ava.

Money wasn't an option; that would just seem petty. Not that I had any to give.

It had to be an act. I had to _do_ something. The biggest problem was that I didn't know the guy. So there wasn't any frame of reference for me to go by.

Still, I thought about starting a campaign to clean the beach, tutoring kids down on the reservation, helping to raise funds to update some of the older buildings and houses down there…

I could do all of it and still feel like a part of me would be occupied by him.

It was becoming an obsession.

Maybe he was the kind of guy who liked to stay outdoors most of the time. His comfort on our walk seemed to suggest that. Or at least it suggested that he didn't really seem to care about clothes very much. For more reason than one, I wasn't going to get him a sweater.

_Maybe if I just asked him. Maybe if I just went down there again and got to know him a little better, I could find out what exactly he needed._

_Yes. Because what he would really like is for some stupid high school girl to keep knocking on his door._

He had been nice. Polite even. But I was wary to test the limit of his patience.

Still…the thought didn't go away, and it seemed like the only way I was going to get a real answer.

_I could ask Logan. He seems like a nice enough guy. Maybe he would help._

This was my day. My whole damn day. My one real reprieve happened as Ethan Powell broke my sister's heart.

Now, I wasn't really privy to their secrets or how far along the relationship had come. She didn't refer to him as her boyfriend, but there was certainly an undeniable ownership status that she claimed. Unspoken, perhaps, but as he was the sixth, it was an implied pairing.

And then he had the nerve to go and make buddy-buddy with Bella Black.

We all stood by the stairs and watched as Bella turned and waved at him. Ava's gasp was enough to snap me from my thoughts and set my head shaking at the sheer idiocy of what he had done.

"No…she doesn't mean him, does she?" Ava whispered. Ethan had a dopey blank face as he returned the wave. "No…"

To his defense, I'm sure he didn't really see the heartache coming. I know I didn't. I mean, she waved at him and it was all very bizarre, but I wasn't certain that it wasn't really what he intended.

"Ava," I said. "Take a breath."

Ethan turned to us. "What?" he asked.

Will was in awe. "Did she just wave at you?"

"Yeah, I guess. So?"

"So she knows you exist," Will replied.

It wasn't a conversation that I really wanted Ava around for. We lingered back as the boys took off for the rail. I didn't want her to hear Will gush about how awesome it was that he had that kind of relationship with the girl, or how awesome he was now that everyone knew about it.

So we avoided them like the plague the whole way home.

***

When we got home, Ava cried. She kept it in during the ride, but once she reached the safety of her room, the door slammed and the sobbing started. I walked upstairs just behind her and knocked softly. I didn't want Mom – or worse still – Dad, to hear and come to try to make it all better. There was something of an understanding between the two of us. Parents rarely made things better when it came to boys. So we kept it to the two of us.

"You want to talk?" I asked.

"No," she replied. "I just need to be alone."

Here's where Mom would want to convince her otherwise. Here's where I would respect what she said. "Okay. You let me know when you need to vent."

"Yeah," she replied.

"Try turning on the music, though."

"Thanks," she replied. I heard an angsty violin pick up in the background. The sobbing was muffled.

I went downstairs. Mom was working in the home office, and Dad was still at work. She called out to me as I passed through the hall.

"Girls?"

I paused and peeked my head through the doorway. "Just me."

"Did I hear a door slam?" she asked.

"Oh. Sorry. I was in a hurry."

"Where's your sister?" Her face was trained on the screen of her notebook. It made lying easier.

"Lost in her homework. I'd give her a little time. She's got a big test or something."

"Ah."

I turned to leave, but she stopped me again.

"Aubree, do you think we could talk?" she asked. She set down her pen and closed the notebook.

I knew what was coming, and it wasn't a conversation I really felt like having. "I'm out the door, actually. Maybe another time?"

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Oh, just a walk. Assignment for my biology class – I have to gather samples of different leaves. Due tomorrow."

"Oh. Maybe after dinner?"

I would have to come up with a new excuse then. "Maybe." I smiled.

"Okay. Have fun."

"Thanks." I turned on my heel and got out of the house as fast as I could.

And then I was walking aimlessly through the forest. I had never been much of a hiker; there were too many trees around us that it all just looked the same to me. And really, let's be honest, hiking is just walking with stupid shoes and a big stick in your hand. It is in no way a sport.

But I was alone, and that was the point.

The sun was setting. I picked up a couple of leaves by my feet and stuck them in the pocket of my sweater. I needed evidence to support my claim.

_Maybe all he really wants is to be left alone. What if all my plans to help him backfire?_

If that was the case, it was certainly something I could relate to.

_Maybe it's just better to take a step back and wait for him to ask me._

_Yeah, right. Like he'll ever ask me for anything._

It wasn't something I had to resolve right away; it wasn't about me. I was slowly realizing that part of the problem I had was that I was trying to make it all go away in some quick, simple task. Maybe the solution was months or even years down the road. Maybe it was something I did after college. Maybe I became a doctor and saved his kids…

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

I needed to take a breath, live my life, and be willing to have the burden on my shoulders for however long it took.

The woods were getting thicker, and the light gray of the sky had dimmed. I looked down at my feet and found they were a little hard to see. It was time to get back to the house.

I turned around and walked back the way I had come. Only the way I had come was harder to find in the near-dark. It took me tripping over the same low branch three times before I realized I was walking in circles. An owl called and I jumped.

Paranoia is a quick thing.

I picked up my pace, as if walking faster meant I wasn't really lost. I tripped for a fourth time.

"Damn it," I hissed.

And then came the little crackles of leaves and rustling of bushes that you only hear when your fear is sharp enough to allow it. The sounds were all around me, and they were far too loud for comfort.

My breathing came faster. My heart started to race.

And then I was running. Why I was running, I have no idea. I had nowhere to run to. Maybe it was intuition. Maybe I sensed it before I really heard it.

One of the crackles was just behind me. I sped up, it sped up. It was giving chase.

And at the rate I was going, it was going to catch me…

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**So now we've heard the story three whole times. Sick of it yet?**

**As usual, please leave your death threats in the form of a review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n: So here's the deal. I'm doing them both today because I have a bunch of stuff with work and weddings over the next month and a half, and I'm not certain I'll be able to keep the update-a-week pace. So I give you a double feature as penance. **

**Thanks to AZBella for watching over the words. :) **

**Thanks to the lovelies at twilight20somethings. Your support is amazing and wonderful. **

**Thanks to the reviewers. Sorry I haven't gotten back to you all yet. I've been writing like a fiend. I will reply in the next couple days. :)**

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Part Five

Of Who We Were, Of Who We Are

I wanted to scream. But I was losing air with the running. Heavy breathing joined in with the crackling noise. It was a wet and thick panting sound, the kind that made you feel gross just to listen to it. The kind that made you think of rabid dogs or creepy stalkers who called women late at night.

And when I heard it, the scream found its way out.

I was looking behind myself more than I was looking forward. I tripped a couple times and the noises gained on me. Whatever it was should have easily overtaken me, but somehow I was always a little bit ahead.

It was officially night and I had no flashlight. My run as a Cemetery Tagger couldn't have ever prepared me for this. I wove between the trees, unsure if I was heading home or deeper into the wood. My own breathing was becoming shallow. My mouth was dry. I kept pushing my legs as fast as they would go.

And then I stumbled one last time. I knew, as my foot caught, that I was done for. There was no way I could get my balance again, no way I could stand up fast enough. My momentum was lost. I spent a half second on these thoughts as I began to drop. And then there was no time for anything but fear, and reactive motions. My hands flew forward to soften the impact. I waited for the burn of cuts across the heels of my hands.

But instead of my knees hitting damp earth, I was caught mid-fall by a pair of arms.

"Aubree?" a voice asked.

A pair of very warm arms.

"What are you doing out here?" Seth asked. "Was that you screaming?"

"We've got to get away!" I said, clambering back up to stand upright on my own. I grabbed his forearm. "It's chasing me. It's right behind me…" I was pulling with all the strength I could muster but we were going nowhere.

"What is?"

"I don't know, but it's there…" I paused for a moment and listened. There was no huffing, no crackles in the night. "It was there. I _swear_ it was…"

"I believe you," he said. "But whatever it was, it seems to have run off. You probably scared it away."

I _scared it away? Yeah, right. _

My hand pulled back from his skin. I stepped backwards. I didn't want to…impose…on his personal space.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked again.

I took a deep breath, still trying to come back to reality. The residual adrenaline had left me a little shaky. I coughed. "I went for a walk and got lost." I was now safe, but my heart was still racing in my chest.

"Ah."

My knees wobbled and I felt the ground start to sink away. He stepped forward and caught my arms again before I could reach the floor.

"Thanks," I said. His hand lingered on my elbow, waiting in case I lost my balance again. It seemed like a sensible thing to do.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm just a little…worn out. And the nerves haven't really passed away yet."

"Why don't you sit down for a sec? Catch your breath." He led me over to a fallen tree and I took his advice. I put my head between my knees and thanked God that it was so dark that he probably couldn't tell how much of a wreck I was. My hair alone…

He waited, silent and watching as I gulped air and allowed the world to quit its spinning. I could feel his eyes on me. And as glad as I was to have some sort of company, he was probably the last person on Earth I would have asked for.

After my heart calmed itself, I stood. He held a hand out to me for help up but I ignored it.

"You okay?" he asked, a thread of worry wove itself through the question.

I nodded. "I'm fine. Embarrassed, but fine."

"Okay."

My head was clear enough to think again, to wonder instead of worry. So it occurred to me… "What are _you _doing here, Seth?"

"I was on my way home from visiting some friends. They live a little north of here." He pointed off into the dark behind him.

"You were _walking_ home?"

He shrugged. "It's a nice walk. And it doesn't take as long as you would think. The rail goes around everything. I cut through the middle."

"Still…" I looked down at his feet. No shoes. Again. "That can't be a comfortable way to travel."

Maybe money wasn't a horrible way to pay him back after all.

He smiled. "You'd be surprised. I have tough feet."

"I see," I replied. "So then, does this mean you know where we are?"

"Yeah. Railstop seventy-one is about a quarter-mile that way," he said, pointing beside us.

I nodded. "Looks like I have a walk ahead of me."

"Where's your house?"

"Sixty-three," I replied. "I'm just going to have to take the rail back. There's no way I'm going to walk all that way again. God. I'm such an idiot for coming out here. My parents are going to go nuts. I wonder if my dad has called the cops yet."

"Well we'll just have to go find out, eh?"

"Don't you have to get home?" I asked. I don't know _why_ I asked this. I was alone in the woods at night. There was no way I was going to find my way to the rail, let alone my house. I should have kept my mouth shut and just let him lead the way.

He shrugged. "I've got time. C'mon."

He put his hands in his pockets and stepped over the fallen tree. I wrapped my arms around myself and started to follow.

For the first thirty yards or so, we were quiet. And I thought this was going to be the whole trip – friendly help back to the rail. Yet another reason I was indebted to him, just another little thing to add on to the weight on my shoulders. There was just no way…

"So," he said, "Do you mind if I ask why you were walking at night by yourself in the woods?"

I sighed. Even if I didn't like the subject, it was better than what was running through my head. "I was avoiding my mother."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. My mom can be…meddlesome. She's worried about me and wants to have some deep, involved conversation about my well-being. I was just trying not to have that conversation."

"Well I would guess that you've successfully avoided it for now."

"For now," I agreed. "But it's bound to be waiting in the morning at the breakfast table."

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I'm going to have to talk to her, I guess. I'm going to have to convince her that I'm just fine. The words don't seem to be doing me any good though."

"It's part of a mother's job to worry."

"Does _your_ mom bother you every day about your skin-coloring or lack thereof?"

He shook his head. "My mother died a long time ago."

I almost stopped walking. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't…I mean…"

He didn't even pause in his step. "It's alright. Like I said, a long time ago."

"Okay," I replied. There wasn't anything else for me to say.

We walked silently for a few moments more. And then he pressed on. "Is your mother right to worry?"

"Hm?" I picked up a stick from the forest floor and wove it around in front of me. "Yes and no. I mean…I'm fine. I've had a rough couple months, but I'm fine. That's not really why she worries…"

"Oh?"

Did I really want to get into this? Maybe, maybe not. But it was a long walk.

I sighed. "When Ava and I were born there was a little bit of a complication. I came into the world with a weak heart. Touch and go for a while – from what I understand, I could have died. It took a little bit of time and work for the doctors to get me straightened out before I could go home. They told me I was in the hospital for a month.

"So Mom has always plucked after my health a little. She's afraid, I guess, that someday I will just fall in on myself like a house of cards. Like what the doctors told her wasn't true. That I'm still carrying it around with me all the time. That I'm fragile or something."

"Well that makes sense."

"It makes sense as to why she worries. But it makes no sense _to_ worry. Because I'm fine. But she goes ahead and worries anyway. And then that stupid stunt in January didn't really help things."

"I can imagine."

"And now here I am, whining to you about it like you care." I shook my head. "Annoying ramblings of a teenager. Sorry."

He chuckled. "Worry isn't only devoted to mothers. My sister used to do the same thing."

"Oh yeah?"

"My dad died when I was really young. And afterward my sister Leah used to watch me like a hawk. I think she was trying too hard to protect me from…life. It bugged me then. I appreciate it now."

"So you're saying that someday I'll appreciate it?"

"Maybe you will. I'm not a fortune-teller. But I could hunt one up if you like."

"Ha."

He stepped over a log and held a hand out to help me over. This time, I took it.

And then he continued. The hand went back in his pocket. "I do know that I wasn't really aware of how much I depended on her until she left. She moved to Seattle, and then I was the man of the house. There comes a time when a generation finds their own way in the world. I spent a lot of my childhood looking up to Leah and her friends. And then all of a sudden one day they had families, responsibilities, distant places to be…"

"And you were still here."

He nodded. "And I was still here. I was the one the new ones looked up to then. There was no time to adjust, I just had to be that guy."

"The crucible."

"Exactly."

"And now here _I _am whining about it to you like you care." He chuckled. "Annoying ramblings of a twenty-something." 

I smiled. "It's funny how similar those ramblings can be, eh?"

"Yeah. It's hilarious."

"So your sister moved to Seattle. Any other family?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Not really. No immediate family. I have a lot of distant relatives out there. And the guys here are all like my brothers."

"But you live alone?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds…refreshing."

He laughed. "I don't know if that's the word I would use."

"I can't wait to go to college. Get away from my parents. Not have Ava hanging on me all the time. I love her but…"

"Where are you planning on going?" he asked.

"Somewhere not here. Somewhere distant and exotic. Somewhere halfway across the world."

"Sounds like fun."

"I'm nothing if not adventurous," I said. I dragged the stick along the ground. "Oh, who am I kidding? I'll go to Washington State or something."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because as much as I complain about Ava…if she wanted me along with, I would go. And I couldn't imagine leaving Will behind."

"Will? Your…boyfriend?"

I laughed. "No. In no way is Will Yorkie my _boyfriend."_

"Ah. Sorry."

"It's okay. Common misconception." I tossed the stick off into the trees.

In the break in our conversation, the little noises in the forest made themselves known again. But they weren't too loud, they weren't too anything. They were just…there. And that was okay with me.

We zigzagged through the trees and found ways to not spend too much time squeezing through thick underbrush. Any time it was a more difficult way around, or there was a log or rock to climb over, he offered his hand and I allowed the little moment of contact.

I wanted to be able to tell myself that I was completely okay with his company. Because if I was at ease around him, obviously I was over the incident in some measure. But I was having trouble staying relaxed with him so nearby. My heart seemed to be able to pick up on his proximity, and it sped up a little whenever he grew closer. Not to mention I had a definite lingering nervousness that had nothing to do with whatever animal had been running after me just a while before.

No. Definitely not comfortable. Whoever coined the term 'butterflies in my stomach' had been far too optimistic.

We reached the road and the rail was in the distance, at least three stops back. I sat down to wait.

"Thanks for the company," I said. "I would have been wandering around for days in there without you."

_And add another tally mark in the 'debts' column of my life. _

"Not a problem. It's not like I have anyone waiting for me back home."

He was lonely. I could see that now. "No girl?"

"Nah. No girl. Yet."

I smiled. "It's kind of surprising, I'll admit. Just a matter of time I would say."

"That's the hope."

"Are you still going to walk?" I asked. I wasn't really looking forward to the ride back, or the screaming father I was going home to.

He took a spot on the bench beside me. "I've done my share of walking today. If you don't mind, I'll just tag along on the rail."

I shrugged. "It's not my rail."

There was a foot of space between us. He didn't crowd me and that was a good thing, but he was still closer than he had been on our way out of the woods. And my heart knew this. I wasn't sure how much faster my it could go, and I wasn't really eager to test that theory. Maybe my mother was right to worry. Maybe there was a problem with me after all. Maybe my heart…

He scooted away a couple inches more. The extra space helped.

"These benches aren't the most comfortable things, are they?" he asked.

"Not really. No."

The rail pulled up. No one else was on it. We climbed aboard and he took a spot across the aisle from me, leaning against the wall of the thing with his legs stretched across the seat. He crossed his arms and leaned his head back against the glass. He closed his eyes.

"Tired?" I asked.

"Mm. A little," he replied. "Don't worry, I won't go to sleep on you…" His eyes came open for a moment. "I mean…"

"I knew what you meant."

"Oh good." He closed his eyes again and smiled. "I always like how quiet the rail is. It's quiet enough that you _could_ fall asleep. I did once."

"Oh yeah?"

"I was on my way home from Edward's house and it was really late. I was alone, and I fell asleep almost as soon as sat down. I spent the whole night on the rail and didn't realize until the local kids started getting on…"

I laughed. "That was _you_? I heard about that a couple weeks ago."

He was smiling. "That was me. I think I scared them half to death. They were definitely not ready for a six-foot Quileute to be snoring in their seats."

"I would have paid good money to have seen that," I said.

"It was pretty funny. They tried to just ignore me. But I woke up after the whispers started. I almost jumped awake. And they were so frightened."

"I wonder why."

"Aubree. You have seen me, right? Am I not at least a little bit scary?"

_Not in the way you mean but… _"I guess to someone who doesn't know you, perhaps." He ran a hand through his hair and the muscles in his arm flexed. Okay, maybe I could see why they would be frightened of him.

"Well, anyway," he said. "I got off on the next stop. Poor kids."

"Just so you know, by the time it got around the cafeteria, some of the kids swore it was Big Foot on the rail."

This made him crack up. His fit of laughter was only broken by one statement. "Really? That's awesome."

_Did he just use the word 'awesome'? _

"Awesome," he repeated.

_Yes. Yes he did. _

I smiled.

We pulled up to my stop and my heart sank. There were definitely two squad cars out front. And they definitely had their lights going. I sighed.

"Oh no," I said. "This is going to be ugly."

He stood from the seat and leaned over to see out my window. He nodded. "Well. You're home, Aubree. That's the important part. That's the part they'll care about."

"Right." I rolled my eyes. "Time to face the music."

He started to follow me out, and I turned and put a hand on his chest. "Wait."

And then I pulled my hand back. Too close for comfort.

His eyes stared down into mine. "What?"

"You don't have to come. It's probably better if you don't actually…"

"Oh," he replied. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't want them to get mad at you. You just got lost. I could corroborate your story…"

"I'm sure," I said. "My dad has a thing about boys."

He cocked an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I fit the category."

"Believe me, you do. It doesn't really matter how old you are."

"Well…okay then." He sank back into the seat. "Good luck, I guess."

"Thanks." I sighed and stepped off the rail.

There was a moment where I was standing just outside of the rail, and it hadn't taken off yet, and in this moment I was happy, content. The impending storm didn't really affect me. And I was far enough away from Seth that I wasn't bothered by nerves or a frantic heart.

And I realized in this moment that I was going to be okay.

I don't know why this suddenly came to me. Just a feeling of comfort. And the thought that I could live with myself.

And then the rail clicked behind me, taking off down the road again. I took a deep breath and walked toward the red and blue lights flashing in the driveway.

"I'm home!" I called ahead of me. There were replying shouts and figures running out into the dark.

"Aubree! Is that you?" My father's voice was more afraid than angry. This was about to change.

"It's me," I called back. I was twenty feet away. A pair police officers filed out of the house onto the porch. One of them touched his headset and said something.

"Aubree Elizabeth Parson! Get down here now!" Dad shouted.

And when I reached the house my Mom was there, holding Ava's hand on the porch. She wrapped her free arm around me. "We have been so worried. Where have you been?"

"I got lost…" I replied. "But I'm found again."

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**Sighhhhhh. Thoughts? **


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n: Evidently I had more to this part than I thought. So no real spoilers to be wary of. Perhaps a little bit of a filler chapter, but stuff has to happen before other better stuff can happen. Hope you enjoy it anyhow. **

**Do you like music? Do you like this fic? You should check out my playlists running on my profile. :)  
**

**Cliffie ahead. Beware. **

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* * *

  
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Part Six

Thoughts on Equality

After the stint in the woods, I was grounded. At least, for a half-hour I was. My father often issued punishments without talking to my mother first, or really thinking it through. So Mom was able to convince him that it was all a mistake and that I really shouldn't be punished for getting lost.

Ava and I sat on the stairs, listening in as they discussed what to do with me. The whispered parts concerned me the most. If we couldn't hear it, it must have been pretty bad. Mom was certainly playing the "January-incident" card. Possibly the "she's-just-a-girl" card as well. We overheard the word "sensitive" far too many times for my tastes. And then the conversation turned to a jumble of whispers we couldn't quite make out.

"You think you'll be allowed to go to the dance?" Ava asked.

"I'm planning on going with Will. And Dad thinks Will is gay, so I would say probably."

Ava chuckled. "Yeah. And I think Mom wants you to have a boyfriend. So she won't let him take away your one chance to get all dressed up for the male population of Forks High."

"Oh yeah?" I asked. "She wants a boyfriend for me? There's a predicament. Why do you say that?"

"She's started asking me if Ethan had any friends..."

"Because Ethan Powell is the first guy I would look to for date suggestions."

"This is true," Ava said.

The conversation in the other room picked up again.

"I just don't see how that can help," Dad said. "What she needs at a time like this is _structure." _

"What she needs is love," Mom replied. "And understanding. It will pass. She's still growing up and to have that happen when…"

"Yes, I know."

"And I just think that we have to take these things with a calmer attitude."

Dad gave a frustrated sigh. "I _know._"

Ava nudged me. "She's wearing him down," she whispered.

"We knew she would," I replied.

We heard a noise as Mom set something down on the coffee table. Dad stood and his knees popped.

"You deal with this then, Helen," he said. "But if she steps one toe out of line…"

"This wasn't really her fault. I let her go out there."

"School project. Right."

As the conversation was taking on ending tones, Ava and I snuck back up the stairs, whispering as we went. "So I guess you're off the hook," she said. "Maybe."

"Maybe," I agreed.

"You want to go with us to get dresses on Saturday?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Ethan said he already had a suit. All supposing we actually still go together…"

"Do you want to?"

"I do. As dumb as it seems, I do. I want the suit on my arm. I want to go with someone who isn't just a friend. And as mad as I am with him, I still want to have that one night. On top of which, I want us to look good. I kinda want us to match. Does that make me horrible?"

I shrugged. "I've never thought about it. Will is probably going to go naked or some such nonsense. It's not really a problem I worry about."

"Mom is right. You need a boyfriend."

***

The knocking woke me up. It had been peaceful and dark – not a whisper of a dream, not a second of insomnia-inducing anxiety. I was rested. I was calm. Dare I say…I was happy.

"Aubree," Mom said through the door. "You're going to be late if you don't get up."

I groaned and looked at my clock. I had slept a half-hour past my alarm and it had given up on me. Temperamental machine.

"I'll be right down," I called. I put on the closest pair of pants I could find and my green waterproof hoodie. There was no rain out, but it was overcast. I opened the window and listened to the sounds of birds and squirrels.

"Aubree!" Mom shouted. "Breakfast!"

"Yeah!" I abandoned the animals to their daily routine and headed downstairs to my mother's microscopic vision. She had a plate of eggs and sausage waiting, along with a tall glass of orange juice. There was a basket with pre-buttered toast, and little jars of assorted jams that I didn't even know we owned.

"Mom?" I asked. "Where did all this come from?"

She shrugged, carrying a bowl of cereal over. "I felt like making something nice. It's fun to go all out once and while."

_Sure…_ "Well it looks good."

_I wonder if she expects me to eat it all. I sincerely hope not. _

Ava was already finished. She had eaten the eggs and a few bites of the cereal, but chose to scrape the rest into the trash.

"I'm going to go brush my teeth and then we have to jet, Aubree," she said.

"Okay," I replied.

She left for our bathroom upstairs, and Mom took her spot at the table. She watched me eat.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Did you sleep okay last night?" she asked.

I took another bite of eggs, swallowed. "Just dandy."

"Are you excited for the dance coming up next weekend?"

"Sure." I shrugged. "Ava and I are going to find stuff to wear this weekend."

"Oh that's good," she replied. She was still staring at my fork, so I speared a piece of sausage. I worried that it would never be enough. "Do you have a date?"

"Will's taking me."

Mom nodded and managed a weak smile.

"Aubree?" Ava called down. "Five minutes."

"You heard her…" I said. I left the fork on the table, along with the plate.

"Wait, Aubree…" Mom laid her hand on mine before I could stand up all the way. I sank back down to the chair. "Your father and I talked last night. About what happened…"

"I just got lost. And Dad said I wasn't grounded anymore."

She nodded. "You're not grounded. But I still want to make sure something like that doesn't happen again. I mean, in January…"

I rolled my eyes.

"…you were all alone then. And then last night, you're off on your own and you end up lost in the woods…" The train of thought ran off its track; she stared at her hand on top of mine. Her eyes grew watery.

"Mom?"

"I just would rather you kept to your sister's side. Or made plans with your friends for the time being."

"Mom…" I whined. "I'm not a toddler. I can take care of myself."

"I know, I know," she said. "I just think you could help us breathe a little easier if you just didn't go running off on your own for a while. It can't be that hard for you to do. You have lots of friends. Will is attached at your hip anyways…"

"And if I ever want to spend a moment just by myself? Just to….get space?"

"You always have our house. Your room. The yard."

I sighed. "That's not fair. Does Ava have to do this too…?"

"Well…"

"Right." I stood up from the table. I had heard enough. "Great. Thanks for this. Because I'm completely inept. Glad to hear I've got parents with such confidence in me."

"Aubree…"

"Ava!" I shouted. "Let's go!"

"I didn't mean to…"

Ava appeared at the base of the stairs. "Ready?" she asked.

"Yeah." I walked over to the door and picked up my bag. "C'mon, I can't walk out to the rail without you. Hope it's okay that we don't hold hands."

"What?" Ava asked. She looked over at Mom, who was headed my way.

"Aubree, that's not exactly—" Mom said.

I cut her off. "Let's just go."

I stormed out of the house, headed for the railstop. Ava was only a few steps behind me. She had probably taken a moment to actually say goodbye.

_Structure my ass. _

"What is wrong with you?" Ava said as she caught up. "What was all that back there?"

"Mom thinks…never mind." I sighed. "What's your plan for today?"

"My plan?" she asked.

"Ethan. The rail. Do we curse from afar? Or up close and personal?"

She kicked a rock at her feet. "I don't want to sit next to him, if that's what you're asking."

It was perhaps a little selfish to turn topics on her so quickly. Especially onto one she was certainly trying to avoid. But it was something I wanted to know, and it was easier than talking about my own issues.

"Then we won't sit next to him," I said.

When we got on the rail, we took a spot near the front. I could see Ethan staring after us the moment we stepped aboard, intent in his eyes. Ava's mood only turned for the worse when she sat down. It wasn't too long before the guy was standing next to us, pleading with Ava. And at first, it annoyed me. It was just too pathetic for him to be begging after her forgiveness like that.

"Ava, can we talk?" he asked.

Ava shifted in her seat, turned a little more to face the window.

"I really don't think that's going to happen, Ethan," I said.

The rail voice sounded. "Please remain in your seat while the rail is in motion."

But he didn't leave. In fact, he leaned forward, his hand on the back of our seat. His voice was quieter, trying to be a little more private for Ava, perhaps. "This is silly. Come on. I just want to talk."

Ava was staring out the window.

"Ethan Powell, please return to your seat while the rail is in motion."

His ear was just a couple inches from me. "You heard the machine," I said. "Return to your seat."

He ignored me. "Ava. I'm not leaving until we talk."

And then his begging turned a little less pathetic in my mind. He wasn't whining. He wasn't pleading. It was a fact. He didn't really care about the warnings. He only wanted to straighten things out with Ava, assuming it was even possible.

"Ethan Powell, final warning," The rail voice said. "Return to your seat or you will be issued detention."

I turned to Ava. "If you don't want anything to do with the guy, you should at least tell him. He won't leave us alone until you do."

Ava nodded, her nose a little red from forcing back tears. Her stare turned hard as she stood, and she went to follow him to his seat a couple rows back.

I didn't bother listening in. I was just enjoying the brief moment of solitude I had earned and probably would not see again for a very long time.

Not to mention…I already knew how it would end.

***

After school on Wednesday, Will and I went into town. He was bored and I wasn't really in the mood to be at home. Mom and Dad had talked things out with Ava, explained my limitations as far as my outings were concerned. Out with Will was allowed. Out with her was allowed. Out with anyone else that they knew on a first name basis was allowed. Alone was not.

But now that she knew, any time spent together felt like punishment or regulation. Will was still unaware, so I felt a little better tagging along with him.

He made me stop at the café so he could get food while simultaneously making an appearance for all the more popular kids at Forks High.

Will found a table by the window. He pulled my chair out for me.

"This is different," I said. "Where did the shiny brand new manners come from?"

"Why, Aubree." He held his hand to his chest. "I'm deeply offended. Am I not always the model of good behavior in your presence?"

"Is this a trick question?" I asked.

He sat down across from me. "It is not. I strive only to life with the highest level of taste and decorum."

"He says while wearing a sweater that reads 'Move along or I'll bite you'."

"Apparel notwithstanding."

"Cut the crap, Will."

"Cutting," he replied.

The waitress came to take our orders. I asked for a glass of water and Will ordered a roast beef sandwich. When she left, Will kicked my foot.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked. "I'm buying. Water's not expensive enough."

"Not particularly," I replied. "More importantly, if I eat now I won't be hungry for dinner at home. And my mom needs to see me eat. Or she might have me hospitalized or something."

"Oh, hospitalized…you could enjoy the bedside manner of Dr. Cullen. I hear he's a looker."

I rolled my eyes. "You are not helping to disprove my father's gay theory, you know."

"Maybe I'll wear a dress to the dance too. That'd be fun. See his expression."

"Yeah And I'll wear a suit. That should really confuse him."

He sighed. "Nah. I'm going dapper. I have to."

"She's not going to chaperone. She never has. She never will."

"Don't break my dreams."

His food came and I spent my time watching him eat and attempt to flirt with the girls at the table next to us at the same time. The problem is he flirts via his eyebrows, so it was pretty much lost on the lot of them.

"I think Sheri likes me," he said.

"I think she wonders if you need medical attention," I replied.

"She can give me mouth to mouth anytime."

"Ew, Will."

He paid for his meal, and Sheri's, and I herded him out before he could start talking to the girl. It was not a conversation I wanted to linger nearby. We wandered down the block. He was doing the leading, and I wasn't paying attention, so we wound up outside Newton's.

"Let's see if E's in today," he said.

I held the door open for him. Turn about is fair play.

The display near the door came to life. "Hello and welcome to Newton's! We have a special discount on fishing rods this week! Also be sure to check out our new shipment of tackle boxes. Headed to the snow? How about some weatherproof pants? They come in all…"

I yanked Will's arm past the display. "Do you stand in front of its eyes just to annoy everyone?"

"I wanted to hear the punch line."

Mrs. Marshall waved at us from behind the counter. "Hey kids, what brings you in today? Can I help you find something?'

"No," I replied. "Will was just looking for Ethan."

"I've got Lonny on Wednesdays." She pointed a thumb in the direction of a guy stocking the shoe section with ear buds on. He nodded his head and hummed off-key along to the music we couldn't hear.

"Aw," Will said. "You know where he is?"

Mrs. Marshall shook her head. "Home, probably. He doesn't go out much."

"Say, Mrs. Marshall…" Will leaned against the counter. He flashed her a wide smile. "Are you friends with Dr. Cullen by chance?"

I turned away and started wandering down the aisles. I had never spent any significant amount of time in the store before. There was just no reason for me to. But I was curious, as I walked down towards the fishing section, what exactly would be a nice gift for someone who was the 'outdoorsy' type? Someone who skipped the rail ride for the woods. Someone who appeared out of nowhere to save a girl from frightening things that went bump in the night.

It was silly for me to even browse the fishing rods. I didn't know anything about anything, and who knew if he even liked to fish. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would go out hunting. At least, I couldn't picture him holding a gun. The only real thing I knew was that he seemed to like to walk places.

And he didn't wear shoes.

_Shoes. _

I found my way to the back corner of the store where the hiking boots were on display. Lonny continued to bob along to his music, oblivious of me.

There were a lot of ridiculous-looking pairs. Things with special linings to keep out snow, with built in temperature gauges and heaters. There was one pair that was bright pink – for the girls.

I found a plain pair near the bottom; they were dark brown with a little bit of a tread. Not too high-topped so as to look like something my dad might buy. I picked up a box near the front and held it up to my foot.

"You need a size?" a voice asked. It was Lonny. He held one of his ear buds in his right hand, and left the other one in.

"Um," I replied. "Not sure what to get, actually. They're not for me. They're for…a guy."

"That's a tough one."

Was I really going to buy him shoes? There was no way to get them to him. I wasn't about to go down there with Ava and/or Will tagging along. "What's the best way to figure that out?"

He shook his head. "I dunno. I wear a ten. Does he look like me?"

"Um. No."_ Do I sound offensive? I hope not._ "He's about a half-foot taller than you I think."

I was carrying forward with it, evidently. I couldn't stop now. A thrill ran over me as I thought about what it would be like to just run off to La Push on my own. The freedom of it. Excitement of rule-breaking.

"Wow." He crouched down beside me and reached around to the shelf. "We've got a couple bigger pairs in the back here. I would say to try a twelve at least." He pulled out a box from the back and handed it to me. "If they don't fit, you can always exchange them."

"Okay," I replied. "Thanks."

And seeing Seth again was something I could handle. If it meant I didn't have to play by my parents' rules. The more I thought it over, the better it sounded. I liked the idea of being somewhere they didn't know. I liked the idea of visiting him. Because they had no idea who he was.

He was mine.

Well, not really _mine_. But mine in that he was something of my world that didn't encroach on anyone else's. Someone I could talk to that wasn't a part of the little bubble world of my house and the high school and Will and Ava and…

I was suffocating just thinking about it.

As I walked up to the counter with the box, I told myself it was the perfect plan. I repeated this mantra over and over, _Its for Seth. It's a good idea. It's for Seth. It's a good idea. _I wasn't fully convinced of it though. My heartbeat marked a quick, unsteady pace as I gripped the shoebox and prepared myself to lie.

Will was still chatting with Mrs. Marshall, now on the topic of Carter and how he was faring on the swim team in college. It was a subject she did not need encouragement on, and so it was the least amount of talking I had ever seen him do.

"They had practice again today," she said. "They do every other day in the afternoon and both days on weekends. Carter says he thinks he should be up for the next meet in February. I'm planning on closing shop for that week and heading down there for it. I think he'll win probably this time—"

"Aubree," Will said. "Are you buying something?"

Mrs. Marshall quieted down. "Did you need me to ring you up?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Gift for my dad. His birthday is coming up soon."

"I didn't know your dad liked to hike," Mrs. Marshall said as she took the box. "I have some great gear in here if he's ever looking to—"

"Oh, no…" I said. "It's really more of a nudge. He doesn't get enough exercise and we're trying to get him into some hobbies."

"Well if he does, let him know."

"Will do."

I paid for the shoes and looped my arm in Will's. "C'mon kiddo, let's go home."

***

When I got home that night I ate dinner. I smiled and nodded and kept up enough acknowledgements to make them all think I really cared what they were talking about. An hour later I was allowed to go to my room. I kept my painted-on grin and bid them all goodnight.

My room was cold. I had left the damn window open all day again. The curtains blew in, tossing in the bitter, rain-promising wind. I shut the window and changed into the warmest flannels that I could find. I crawled under the sheets. But it was too cold to be comfortable enough for sleep.

So I thought about my plan to take the shoes to Seth. The box was safely buried in the depths of my closet, waiting for the day I could gather my courage enough to be the reckless girl I was dreaming of being. Why hadn't I just skipped out on dinner and gone to the beach that night? Not because of the rules. I had enough courage stored up to do that.

It really was because of Seth himself. I found him a little…intimidating, perhaps. Just the idea of him made my heart pick up a little pace. But when I was with him, it was sometimes easier. When we talked I could forget the little things like his massive build versus and my tiny frame. And the fact that he had at some point seen me naked. Yes, talking helped.

But talking never really got rid the fact that he was quite a bit older than I was. I would die before I would become the high school girl who snuck into college parties only to be laughed at behind her back. Not to mention I didn't want to impose on him. He was probably busy doing more important things than entertaining the errant daydreams of a stupid teenager. I didn't want to annoy him.

I watched the light from outside and the shadows of the leaves on the trees playing on the ceiling. I dreamed of ways to accidentally run into him with a box of shoes in my hand. I told myself that was ridiculous. My mind went on with scenarios of what might happen if I found myself knocking at his door…

None of them eased my mind.

So I stared at the ceiling for some unknown time, trying to quiet my head.

And I kinda wished I hadn't given the sweater back.

***

It took me a couple days before I convinced myself to do something about the box in the closet. I thought about it all the time. I thought about what it would be like to see him again. I thought about the night on the rail and how, in the end, he was a lot more than just a really tall guy who helped me out of the water one day and out of the forest another. He was…a friend? Perhaps.

And I still owed him a lot.

A lot more than a stupid pair of shoes.

Which I wanted to give him anyway.

Friday afternoon, Ava was in her room, getting dressed up for Ethan and bowling balls. It was kind of sad. I was sure the bowling balls would pay more attention to her details than Ethan would. I listened to her whistling as she applied makeup and curled her hair just so.

"Are you going to do something with Will tonight?" she asked.

I shrugged. "He said something about the café and Nate and…it sounded unappealing."

"I would really appreciate it if you could herd them away from the bowling alley for me." She dabbed on some lip-gloss.

"That's probably not going to happen. Sorry."

"So you're just going to stay here and sulk all night?"

I sighed. "Possibly. The weather isn't all that great for going out." And as the words escaped, I felt sad for myself. It's a horrible thing to pity your own sorry life.

"This is true," Ava replied.

I wanted something to do. I wanted to get out of the house. And I had bought the damn shoes to what? Sit in my room for the rest of my life? It wasn't like my feet were ever going to get big enough to wear them…

And it wasn't like I had to actually _see_ him. I could just drop it at his door, knock, and leave. Or I could make a short appearance, hand him the box with a thankful smile, and get out as fast as possible. I wouldn't linger on his every word. I wouldn't hang on him like an idiot.

Perhaps my Friday wouldn't be so pointless after all.

I stood up and walked back to my room. The rain wasn't going to be fun, but I had a hood. I could survive water falling from the sky. I tucked the box under my arm and grabbed the headset off my desk. This time I could be smart about it, and maybe not get into trouble in the process.

I called back to Ava. "If Mom asks, I went to town to visit Will."

"You changed your mind?" Her voice echoed on the tile and mirror.

I didn't even really have to lie. "Yeah. I did."

***

The first steps were easy. I was just getting on the rail. I had done that a thousand times. I was even okay as it reached the outskirts of Forks. But as the reservation grew nearer, and the rail began to wind down towards the beach, the nerves started. I had the shoebox on my lap. I rapped my fingernails against the cardboard.

Knock. Box. Run.

This was what I would do.

There didn't have to be any chitchat. There didn't have to be anything at all.

_Go home. Go home. Go home. _

When the rail stopped I almost stayed through and missed my exit. It took a lot of effort to stand up, and more still to get my legs going down the aisle. The rail waited for me as I stepped out into the rain, but it didn't linger long. There was a tinny huff and it was gone. No backing out now.

_This just might be the stupidest idea I have ever had. _

I could see his house down the hill. It looked empty. The lights were off at least. The open curtains at the front window showed only the back of a sofa and a clock on the wall across from it.

Maybe it was better this way. I could just leave it on the porch and go.

I took a few steps down the hill, the curtains didn't move. The front door didn't open.

I will admit, there was a small part of me that was sad I wasn't actually going to see his face when he got the shoes. That he probably wouldn't ever know they came from me. But it was just vanity. This was meant to be a gesture; I wasn't searching for approval.

The rain continued to pour down around me. The box was getting a little soggy. I jogged the last few yards up to get cover under the porch.

"Well, I guess this is it." I said. "Talk about a Friday night."

And then there was the crunch of wet gravel behind me, coming up fast. I turned around, box still in hand, to see Seth coming in from the trees. He was drenched, pulling on a shirt as he ran.

"Aubree!" he shouted.

_Go home. Go home. Go home…_

_

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_**And we cut there to save the spoilers for another day. Sorry! But...please drop a line and tell me what you thought. :)  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n: So the lovely Lindsey over at t20s has started a fangroup for Canon/Grace Note. Do join us. We're gonna have the fun. I'll put a link in my profile because FF doesn't like links in stories. **

**This is one of my favorites so far. I hope you approve. **

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Part Seven

Things We Thought We Knew

Seth caught up to me, and ducked under the safety of the porch overhang.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. His face was red. The shirt he had put on was a dark gray, soaked through and clinging to his skin. His hair was drenched. Little pieces stuck to his forehead, channeling the residual rainwater down his face.

"I just…I don't know," I said.

Logan came running in from the woods, shouting over the storm. "He's still on the fringe. We can't figure out what he wants."

"That would make things too easy, wouldn't it?" he mumbled. And then he looked back to Logan. "Did Trip make it down to see Edward?"

Logan slowed to a jog. As he reached the stair he said, "He's there now. They've got no idea who it is."

"Great. Just great. How long?"

"He said he'd come as soon as he could." He ran a hand over his arm, slicing water off. He wore a thin white tank shirt that had turned transparent. Didn't any of them have _coats? _Or sweaters for that matter. Just seeing long sleeves on one of them would make my day.

"We'll just have to handle things until then." He looked over at me, and then back to Logan. "Get her inside. Stay with her." He stared back down the porch steps, out in to the rain.

"But Seth…" Logan said.

Seth paused and took a moment to look Logan in the eye. His voice grew cold. I had never heard him angry, but this was pretty close. "I said stay with her."

"Fine." Logan walked around me and pulled the door open. "C'mon, Aubree."

"What's going on?" I hissed. "Listen, I can just go home."

"Its not really safe to walk around out there right now."

"Why not?" I asked.

He looked at me, torn. "It's not my place, Aubree. Sorry."

I looked over my shoulder as Logan guided me into the house. Seth was sprinting for the forest edge. He pulled his shirt off again and tossed it to the ground.

I gripped the shoebox.

"Ladies first." Logan held the door for me.

"Should I call my mom to come and get me?" I asked as I walked inside. The small living room was cold and dark. I stood in the empty floor space between the table and couch.

"No," he replied. He went to the window and drew the curtain closed. He didn't turn on the light. "Just…sit tight. Seth will come back and tell us when it's safe again."

"Why isn't it safe?" And even though he already wouldn't answer it the first time, I asked again, "What's going on?"

"I'm so sorry, Aubree. I wish I could…but I really can't. Ask Seth. Talk to Seth."

_"_You know this is ridiculous, right?"

He looked off to the left wall, intent, and didn't answer.

I had a good fume building. "So basically you're holding me hostage. I can't leave. You won't tell me why. And I can't call my parents to get me. I—"

"Aubree," Logan said. He waved his hand at me, his eyes still trained on the wall. "Quiet. I'm trying to _listen._"

"I just—"

My attempts at protest did me no good. "Why don't you sit down? I don't know how long he'll be."

I shook my head, trying to keep my anger going. But, despite my mood, I did as he said. I took off my coat and laid it on the arm of the sofa. There was nothing else to do anyway. I sat in the corner spot and stared at the clock that hung on the wall. I hugged the shoebox to my chest.

Logan paced the floor in front of me. Every other minute he would stop and look at that left wall, as if he wished he could see through it. Maybe he was "listening" as he had said before, but I couldn't hear a damn thing.

And then a distant howl sounded.

Things happened faster after that. Logan ran to the window and pulled the curtain aside to look out at the forest. There were footsteps and the murmur of voices headed towards the house. Logan must have deemed things safe because he crossed the room without a word and walked outside. I kept my spot on the couch, listening to the murmur of their voices on the porch.

"What happened?" Logan asked.

"He ran off." It was Seth's voice. "We chased after but we lost him before…"

"Before I could get there," a third voice said. It was a man's voice, familiar, but I couldn't place it. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Seth replied. "He took off in a car. Or the rail perhaps. We lost it."

"If he shows again?" the man said.

I shifted around on the couch and reached up to the curtain behind me. I pulled it over to peek outside. I could make out Logan's shoulder, Seth beside him, facing away, and the third voice across from them both. I knew the face well enough. Who at Forks High didn't?

It was Edward Cullen.

_What the hell is he doing here? _

"We'll let you know," Seth said. He shook Edward's hand.

_"I was on my way home from Edward's house and it was really late…"_ Seth had said on the rail. I had ignored the name as someone in his life that I didn't know. Who would have thought that…

Edward tilted his head slightly. His eyes met mine. Or, at least, I think they did. I dropped the curtain as soon as I saw and turned back to face the clock again.

"And what are you going to do about…?" Edward asked.

Seth sighed. "I don't know. Any advice?"

"I hear honesty is the best policy. But then…I wasn't one to follow that very strictly." Edward paused; his voice grew a little quieter. "Sometimes I wish I had been the one to tell Bella. But I was too afraid. I told myself at the time that I was protecting her. That I was doing what I needed to do. But that's not the whole truth. I was protecting myself."

"All's well that ends well, eh?" Seth asked with a small chuckle.

"True."

"But then…this is a little different, isn't it? It's not my choice." Seth sighed. "I should have asked Jasper to come over with you."

Edward chuckled. "Now Seth. That's cheating."

"Like _you_ didn't…"

"It didn't really matter. I didn't believe him anyway. I often wonder what I would have done if she hadn't wanted…" There was a moment of silence and then Edward said. "I think you've got the right idea, as hard as it might be. I'll see you tomorrow, Seth. Good luck."

"Thanks."

I didn't realize, until they stopped talking and I could focus on myself again, that I was gripping the box so tightly that my knuckles were starting to ache. I relaxed them one by one.

The door creaked. He was coming inside.

I sat still on the sofa, barely even breathing. He came into view in my periphery, pausing in the doorway. He turned back outside.

"Hey, Logan?" he shouted. "Take Jonah and Trip around, okay? Keep an eye?"

Logan's distant voice called back. "Sure thing."

Seth sighed. He shut the door behind himself and looked over at me. The smile was not very convincing.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I can go. I mean…can I go? Just…"

"If you want. Yes. You can go now."

I nodded and reached for my coat. "Before I do…what was it all about? Logan wouldn't say anything. He just kept telling me to ask you about it."

Seth sighed again. "You really want to know?"

"I think so," I said. "I mean…don't I?"

He chuckled. "I've been trying to figure that out for a while now." He walked over to the chair by the sofa and sat down.

We were both silent for a couple minutes. He eyed the box on my lap.

"What's that?"

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just…" I pushed the box over on the sofa, nearer to him. Nothing had ever looked as pathetic as that soggy, disintegrating cardboard box.

He reached over and lifted the lid anyways. "For me?"

I nodded.

"You bought me shoes?" he asked.

"Well I thought you could use them. I mean…if you don't want them I can…"

"No!" he said. "I mean, of course I want them. Thanks. They look great. Really, thanks." He pulled one out of the box. They had remained relatively dry, the weatherproofing doing its job.

"Sure," I replied.

He held one of the shoes up to the bottom of his foot to see how it matched up. The smile on his face was far too big for the gift he had received. I guess that was the intended effect but…why did my stupid pair of shoes affect him so? And…why didn't he just try them on?

The smile slowly fell away. He studied the shoelaces. "Why?"

I scooted down a little closer to him. "You're just always barefoot and I can't imagine that's comfortable."

"No, Aubree… I mean… Why did you get them for me?" He was still holding the shoe, but with both hands now. Reverently.

I didn't understand. "Like I said, you're barefoot and—"

"Is it a part of your plan to make things up to me? Is it just because of…"

He didn't need to finish that sentence. We both knew what he was talking about.

"No," I replied. "Not really. I don't expect a pair of shoes to make up for anything."

He chuckled. "You really didn't have to get them for me."

"I saw them and I just…had to."

"Okay."

"This box is kind of useless," I said. I pulled the match from the box and held it out to him. Our hands touched for just a moment as he took it from me. He was startlingly warm, as usual. In from the rain and cold, and he was still able to keep up a temperature. Maybe it was all that running. "You know, you're pretty good at the warm thing. You do a better job than I do."

"I try."

"You succeed."

He set the shoes on the floor. "Listen, I need to talk to you about something. I think I should answer your questions before you have to go home. And this might be a little…weird."

"I can't imagine it can be any more weird than what has already happened tonight."

He looked at the shoes. "Believe me. It is."

"Okay…"

He swallowed. "God. How did any of them get through this? I should have talked to Quil and Paul about it when I had the chance."

"Seth?"

He was still mumbling to himself. "And maybe I'm wrong to do it this way around. But you deserve to know this _first_…

"Listen," he said. He looked up again, his eyes meeting mine. There was a little pucker in his forehead. "I am not… There's something you should know about me. About us. And there really is no way to tell you this without sounding completely insane."

I smiled. "_I'm_ probably insane, so maybe I won't think it's that bad."

"I can only hope as much." He took a deep breath. "You ever pay much attention to myths? You know…legends?"

"If you're going to sit there and tell me you believe in the ghost of Isabella Swan, I might agree with your insanity plea."

He chuckled. "No. That's not what I'm going to say. That's a completely different insane conversation for a completely different day."

I would talk ghost stories with him in the future, if it meant that there was a future day to look forward to. I was just happy he wasn't so offended by my presence that he wanted me to leave him alone.

"So…your myths then?" I asked, a wide, joking grin on my face. I laid my coat across my lap and leaned back on the sofa.

"My people have a lot of legends that tie in with our history. There's one where we were supposedly saved from destruction by a giant bird. There's a story about how Cassiopeia is really the holes left behind from skinning a man who could turn into an elk…

"When I was a kid, I just loved to go to the bonfires and listen to all the legends. I would sit in front of the firelight and just…imagine. And there was a part of me that admired the legends for what they were – a part of my culture. A part of me. But I didn't hold any particular stock in them. They were just like really good movies."

_Did he just say 'movies'? _

"And then, when I was eleven, one of those myths that I loved so much took a stronger hold on my life than I could have ever expected. Because it was _true."_

"So you were saved by a giant bird once?" I asked. There was a scoff somewhere in my smile, but he wasn't really paying attention.

He shook his head. "No. This was a different myth entirely…

"We have a story that talks about how one of our ancestors saved our tribe by joining his spirit with that of a wolf. And through the ages, as his sons had sons – and daughters, I should add – and the tribe needed protection, that…connection…was passed down.

"Do you know what a werewolf is?" he asked.

I opened my mouth and closed it again. "Well. Yeah…why?"

"There are some things in this world that are not just myths, Aubree. I am one of those things."

I gave a halfhearted chuckle. "You can't mean to tell me that you're a werewolf. That's…"

"Completely insane. I know."

I looked around the room. It had to be a joke. Certainly Ava and Will had put him up to it. _Why _they would do that, I had no idea. But I knew they had to be hiding just around the corner, waiting to pounce on me. Revenge for keeping them out of my latest secret.

And then I was just sad that they had found out about Seth, and the time I had spent with him. And sadder still that he would go along with this stupid prank.

"You have to tell me what you're thinking," Seth said.

"I'm just wondering how long I have to sit here before Will jumps out at me, pointing and laughing."

"Will? The not-boyfriend?"

"You can come out now!" I called into the back rooms. I stood up and walked over to the hall. It was dark down to the end, the doors closed, all quiet.

"They're not here," Seth muttered.

"Ava?" I called. "Come on. This is just childish!"

"Aubree!" Seth shouted. My head snapped over to him. He had one hand clenched into a fist. The other took a moment to run through his hair. "Please. Don't do this. They're _not_ here."

My heart picked up a bit. _He really thinks he's a…_

_He's insane. _

_Oh no. Please. No, no, no, no…_

It served me right for breaking the rules.

"I've had this conversation in my head about a million and a half times since that day on the beach. And it never turns out well. But you deserve to know the truth. And if you never want to see me again, I would understand."

I had no words.

"You wonder about the bare feet thing. It's because I lose shoes every time I change—"

_Into a wolf. He means "every time I change into a wolf…"_

"—so it's just easier not to wear them sometimes. You wonder about my temperature. It's to do with my metabolism. I heal faster because of what I am…

_Because I'm a werewolf. He thinks he heals faster because he thinks he's something that doesn't really exist. _

He was just going to keep on going with this craziness. And I wasn't sure just how much more I could take. I couldn't stand to be there, present as he fell apart in his ramblings. He was just so _certain. _

And it was so heartbreaking.

"I would show you but I hear it's not always the safest thing." He sighed. "Aubree. Say something. Anything."

I swallowed. "I think I should go home now."

"Right." He nodded, looking down at the shoes. "Right. Of course right."

"And it's safe out there then…?"

"Yeah. It's safe."

He didn't look up as I walked over and picked up my coat. He didn't move to stand as I headed for the door. I kept waiting for the "just kidding!' to find its way out of his mouth. But it didn't happen. He hung his head and I walked across the tiny living room.

"Aubree, wait," he said.

I looked back over my shoulder and he was still sitting in the chair. His eyes were empty, his mouth a hardened line.

And yet I still believed I was saved. I watched his face and waited for it to brighten back to that warm smile, to more friendly eyes. I waited for his laugh and his shoulders to relax. I waited for him to tell me it was all just a—

"You can't tell anyone about all this. Not your friends, not Ava…"

My throat was starting to ache, but I managed to speak anyway. "Don't worry. I wouldn't…ever."

He nodded. "Good."

I opened the door and stepped out into the rain. And as if the world had its heart set on irony that particular day, a wolf howled off in the forest.

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**Thoughts? Questions? Comments? **


	8. Chapter 8

**a/n: Okay my loves, here's eight. It's probably not the answer-filled chapter-o-rama you are hoping for. Just a warning. The conversation with Logan doesn't tell us why she's on Ethan's door stoop. That's for Canon 19 and/or GN 9. **

**But this part had to happen for that stuff to make sense. **

**I hope it's enjoyable nonetheless. **

**As for Tuesday's usual fun…*sigh*…pending some kind of miracle, I don't think Canon will update today. I was out of town at a wedding all weekend long and didn't get anything done for the chapter. I have written some, but I still have a long way to go and I don't want to rush it and have it suck. **

**This is also my reason for not having responded to the **_**epic **_**reviews from the Canon 18. Seriously my friends…I love you in ways that words cannot describe. I will be better next time around, I promise**

**Would a spoiler siggy for 19 be a good thing? Or a bad thing? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you. **

**I **_**so**_** shouldn't have said that. **

**Thanks are owed to AZBella, my beta, for helping me with this. And her honesty. :) **

**The hype! The hype! I will not live up to it…**

**

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Part Eight

Merry-Go-Rounds

I got home before Ava. I even got home before dark. The rail ride was uneventful, save for my desperate want to cry over the crazy things I had witnessed only moments before. But I couldn't arrive at home flushed and tearstained, without any kind of explanation for my parents. Not to mention my wits were spent wondering how someone like Seth could be so over the edge, and how someone like me couldn't figure that out sooner.

I don't know why it bothered me so much. So what if he thought he was a… I mean it wasn't like I was going to be spending all my spare time visiting him in the insane asylum. I had delivered the shoes. I definitely still owed him something, but it seemed less likely that I was going to attempt any grand gestures in the very near future. I was going to have to stay away from him for a while.

Or maybe that _was _my repayment. Maybe I was meant to help save him from his own mental drowning.

Whatever it was, I wasn't sure how soon I could work my way up to it.

My mother was waiting for me in the kitchen when I got home. She tapped her fingers against the notebook she had in front of her. There was a mug of coffee resting on the table giving off pale steam in the low light of the dreary day.

"Hey," she said, finishing up whatever she was typing. She looked up. "How was your afternoon? How is Will?"

"Fine," I replied. I crossed over to the cabinet and pulled down a glass. I held it under the drinking water fountain in the sink, watching as it filled.

"Listen, Aubree, I know you don't agree with the limitations your father and I have set for you…"

I took a drink from the glass, staring at the backsplash.

"But it won't be forever, and I think it's going to get easier. It's not like you go off on your own all the time anyways."

_If you only knew…_

The funny thing was, I didn't have the heart to be mad about it anymore. I felt defeated anyway; piling this on top of things didn't really mean much. And being alone just didn't seem to appeal. Not to mention there was no real reason to go anywhere by myself anymore.

"Don't worry about it," I replied, eyes still fixed on the tile.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. It's fine."

She sighed. "Wow. I thought this would be a much different conversation. Well…thank you. That's very mature of you." She stood and crossed to me at the sink. She brushed my hair away from my face. "You're growing up so fast."

"That's what I hear," I replied.

"Hungry? Can I fix you something to snack on?"

I shook my head. "Not right now. But thanks."

"Your father just left. He's going to be gone 'til ten tonight. There's a meeting with the logging companies so it's just us for dinner."

_Great. _

I set the glass down in the sink. "So what did you think of Ethan?" I asked.

Mom frowned. "He didn't show up."

"What?" I flipped around to face her. "You mean she's still up there? He stood her up?"

"Oh, no. She went to find him and then she called from the bowling alley. Apparently there was some sort of misunderstanding about the schedule."

I rolled my eyes, mumbling, "He doesn't deserve her."

Mom was oblivious to the comment. She walked back over to the table as she talked, and closed her notebook. "She assured us he would introduce himself when they came home tonight."

"That's good."

Mom nudged me into spending most of the evening downstairs with her. We did a puzzle. I helped her make dinner. We ate in uncomfortable silence that weighed on me. I was trying so hard not to think about the afternoon with Seth that everything I kept turning back to it anyway. His words slipped into the empty spaces between thoughts, the lulls in our conversation.

"Mom? Will you pass the salt?"

_Who cares that he thinks he's a… Doesn't mean we can't still be friends. _

"Sure, 'hon." She reached across the table to hand me the shaker.

_Yes it does. _

Mom cleared her throat. "So what did you and Will do this afternoon?"

_Who cares? Leave it be._

"Just wandered around town," I said. "He's probably still down there."

_He's probably regretting telling me. _

"Oh."

_I'm never going down there again anyways. So who cares? _

She wiped the corner of her mouth and asked, "Why didn't you stay?'

"Because I was tired," I replied.

_Because I couldn't stay in the same room as him any longer. _

I wanted to cry again.

I coughed and set my fork and knife on the plate. There was still half the salad and chicken left, but I had to get out of there. "I have some homework to do. I think I'm going to go up and take care of that. Maybe turn in a little early."

"You sure? Did you get enough to eat?"

I nodded, spending all my effort on keeping the tears at bay for just a minute more.

"Okay," she said.

I paced my steps to the sink. I didn't want her to worry after I had gone and seek me out to talk about the hasty exit.

When I got upstairs the grief had built so that I couldn't take it anymore. At least I made it to my room before it all came spilling out. I shut the door behind me and crossed to the window. The night was murky; wisps of fog wound their way around the trees at the edge of the forest. I lifted my hand to the windowpane and watched as the glass frosted over beneath the heat of it.

_Oh, Seth. _

The tears rolled down my cheeks.

"Why?"

***

Have you ever ridden a merry-go-round? We had one at Chapel Park that Ava and I used to ride on all the time. I would spin on that thing until I couldn't walk straight.

I have a point. I swear I do.

So I'm on this merry-go-round, sitting there, holding onto the center pole. And the longer I spin, the less it feels like I'm the one moving. I got my eyes trained on the edge of the circle and the trees just beyond it are blurring by. And it looks like the world is spinning – not me. Its all the trees, and the grass, and the flecks of red from the neighboring swing set. And I'm just sitting there watching the colors run together.

But, as gravity wins in the end, the merry-go-round does eventually come to a stop. It takes a while before I can walk straight again. Mom holds my hand and guides me over to sit down with her. And then the world is only moving as much as I am. Two steps away from the merry-go-round, and I can see it was just a ride, the world was always right and I was the delusional one.

It just takes time. Time to settle. Time to let my equilibrium set itself right.

And sometimes it takes someone else with a steady hand.

***

Saturday morning, Ava knocked on my door to get me up for dress shopping. She let herself in as I sat up in bed. I had a minor headache that was due in no small part to crying myself to sleep that night.

"I thought for sure you would be waiting up with Dad when I got home," she said. She sat on the edge of my bed, already dressed for the day.

I wiped the sleep out of my eyes. "Sorry. I guess I fell asleep early."

"Ask me," she said, fiddling with the cuff of her sweater. "Ask me how my night went."

"How did your night go?"

She groaned. "Okay."

"Ava, you are not living up to the hype."

She looked up at me. "Jules is a girl."

"And Jules is?"

"Ethan's best friend from Montana."

"So?" I asked.

"So…I know this because he practically stood me up last night. Because she was _there_. At his house. Because she's here visiting him. Because she came along with us to the bowling alley. And she's a _girl." _

"I got that part," I said. "And on a scale of Bella Black to Berma Rhodes?"

"She's not ugly."

"Sorry," I said. "But they're only friends, right?"

She sighed. "Yeah. I guess."

I pulled the covers off of myself. "Then you have no problem." I stood up and stretched.

"It doesn't feel like no problem…" She went back to staring at her cuff. "And she's really nice too."

"How annoying," I replied.

"I _know_." She sighed again, heavier this time. "I want to run into them today. Get your opinion."

"She's not as good as you, Ave."

"Whatever."

***

Dress shopping provided good distractions. Charlotte already knew exactly what she wanted – a yellow ruffley thing I wouldn't ever be caught dead in. Ava took the longest, trying everything on in the store, some of them twice. She settled on a light blue dress with beads that trimmed the edge of the neckline. It was a good color on her.

As for me…well, I really didn't care. I was going with Will. So what I wore didn't matter much. I ended up buying a black dress that Ava and Charlotte told me I should get. It was shorter than I usually wore my dresses, but Ava insisted on it, and I worried that maybe she was in cahoots with my mother on the whole "Aubree needs a boyfriend" thing.

Afterward Charlotte convinced us to stop over at the café to say hello to the boys.

"Why it's my better half," Will said as we walked in the door. They were sitting at a table in the front corner. He stood on his chair as we walked over. He held his arms open wide.

"I am not in the mood, William," I said. I pulled the chair beside him out to sit down.

"Interesting," he replied. "And to what or who do we owe this temper?"

Charlotte sat down on Nate's lap and planted a kiss on his cheek. Ava took the last chair, across from me. I handed her my bag to hang on the light fixture behind her.

"I just am not in the mood for your insane ramblings. So save it for tomorrow. Or whenever I don't see you next."

Will was almost never offended by what I had to say, and so I was unsurprised when he calmly sat down next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "That's almost never, love. Almost never."

"I know." I sighed.

"So do I get to peek at the dress?" Will asked.

Charlotte turned to us with her hands up in a double stop gesture – palms facing us, fingers splayed wide.

"No!" she shouted. "It's not allowed!"

"Hm?" I asked.

"Will cannot see your dress before the dance. It's not allowed."

Will reached around Ava for the bag anyway. "Why?"

"Because it's unlucky." Charlotte smacked his forearm.

"I think you're confusing this with a wedding," I said.

"No!" Charlotte insisted. "This is truth. Stop right now, Will Yorkie. Don't move an inch closer to that bag or I will stab you with a fork."

Will withdrew the hand. "Jiminy Christmas, woman. Take a breath."

Nate chuckled. "She's nothing if not passionate."

"Yeah, passionate," Will said. "That's the word I was going to use."

It was then that I noticed Ava, studying her fingers with a furrowed brow. I reached my hand across the table. "When do you want to go over there?"

She shrugged. "Whenever we're done here, I guess. I'm not anxious to do it, but I have to get an outside opinion."

"What are we scheming?" Will asked.

It was one of our silent conversation moments. My eyes flicked from the group and back to her, asking Ava, "Do you want them to know about her?"

The corner of her mouth said, "It's going to happen eventually anyway."

My eyebrows said, "It doesn't have to."

The rise and fall of her shoulders said, "Go ahead and tell them. Whatever."

"The Lake Kid has a friend in town," I said, using my actual voice this time. "We were going to pop in to say hi to her."

Will and Nate exchanged a look at the word 'her'.

"Oh really?" Will asked. "And you know this person…how?" The question was really directed at Ava but she was still too busy looking at her cuticles to answer.

"Because Ava got a chance to meet her already."

"Who is she exactly?" Will asked.

Ava cleared her throat and spoke up. "Ethan's best friend, Jules."

Will scoffed. "Well we all know that can't be truth. I'm E's best friend."

"Right. Of course you are," Nate said.

"Best friend and possible date to the Cullens' fancy party they're bound to throw in my honor once I find a way to save them all from a burning building." He leaned back in his chair. "Or maybe not _all_ of them. The mechanic could go. I'd be okay with that."

"Keep dreaming, kid," I said. "You're cute when you do that."

Will ignored me and sat upright again. "So do we go meet this girl, or what?"

Everyone stared at Ava for the response. They all knew that she was the key to that door and however she played it they would go along with.

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "Sure."

***

As Ava had said, Jules Appleby was _not_ ugly. But it was my duty to find the faults that were available. The girl had weird hair. Though I suppose as I had Will wrecking that particular curve, it wasn't too bad. But her wrists were really skinny, like I wondered how her hands stayed connected to her body. She had on boots that made me wonder if she had spent time in Juvenile Hall at some point in her life. And her eyes looked too big for her face. Not to mention she wore these striped socks that made her look like a circus act.

Which, in my opinion, made her fit in pretty well with the town as a whole.

When she burned Will to the ground in front of us all, I knew she was accepted. I kept up my annoyance in Ava's stead. She had to be nice. I didn't.

"So do I get introduced around?" the girl asked. "Or is this part of the initiation? Do I have to guess for everyone else? Not that I mind…"

Ethan introduced everyone with a grin on his face. "Sorry. Ava you know, and this is her sister, Aubree. And last but not least, Nate and Charlotte." Deep breath, renewed goofy grin. "And guys, this is Jules. Be nice. Please."

Yeah, that was going to happen.

Ava lowered her chin, playing at coy. "We were hoping you would be on your lunch break soon." She turned to Ethan's aunt who was leaning against the counter, watching us like we were some kind of play put on just for her. "Could Ethan come out to get some food with us, Mrs. Marshall?"

Mrs. Marshall smiled. "Sure. Go ahead, kid. Take the day."

***

The café was pretty empty when we got there. A couple of older men sat in the back corner, talking about fishing equipment. The seven of us took a booth at the front window and I slid in to sit next to the window. Charlotte and Nate pulled in beside me, allowing Ava a spot across from me. Ethan sat between her and Jules. Rebel Will took a chair at the end.

After we ordered our food, Jules became the center of attention. It was typical Forks High crap. She was new and different and that meant she deserved all their love and devotion. Will decided the duty of testing her title of 'best friend' via his own personal survey to judge her worth. And when she proved to know enough about music to shut him up, we were all a little happier for it.

She regaled us with some story about Ethan growing up, or their first date, or whatever. I'm not sure. I stopped listening the moment his grin turned stupid again. He was practically glowing with her beside him.

_Best friends? Ha. _

I wondered if Charlotte saw it too. Ava certainly had picked up on it a little the night before, but perhaps her own fragile heart wouldn't let her fully believe what was right in front of her eyes.

"So, Ethan," Nate said. "Since you have the rest of the day off, we're going to have to do something crazy awesome."

Will started up with his survey again. "You didn't bring a flashlight up with you by chance, did you?"

"I always bring flashlights everywhere," she said, shamelessly winking at Ethan. "Life is better with a flashlight."

That knocked Will down another peg. "Oh. Good."

Nate was nodding and grinning. "Yeah, there's an idea. And Char's not sick this time so…" He looked around the table for agreement.

"Whatever," I said. I turned to stare blankly out the window. I couldn't watch it unfold anymore. I knew what I needed to know.

Ethan Powell was going to hurt a lot of people. Himself included. The sad thing was, I wasn't too sure he had any idea where he was headed.

In the background, Charlotte said, "See, we play this game called Cemetery Tag and…"

"I know. Ethan told me," Jules replied.

_Of course he did._

She flicked her flashlight off and on. "Sounds like fun."

It was all so juvenile.

Here we were, going on about a stupid game of tag when there were people in the world with problems. Real problems. I should have felt horrible for Ava and the road she most certainly was on, but truthfully, I didn't care all that much. That sounds harsh. I did care that she would be hurt, but I didn't care to watch it unfold. There was just no room for it in me.

I wanted honesty. I wanted bluntness. I wanted to shake them all by the shoulders and tell them to grow the hell up.

But honesty is something that I just wouldn't get. The people around Forks were too far gone for that.

***

The rest of the afternoon consisted of us wandering aimlessly around town. We did touristy things, like visited the stores that housed the random crap people bought when they wanted reminders of their time spent in one of the rainiest places in the United States. Ava played along with Ethan's game of showing Jules the sights of Forks. My poor sister would innocently bat her eyelashes at the boy as she reminded him of landmarks he should talk about, telling them both interesting tidbits about the town in general. But he was too wrapped up in the tourist to notice all her hard work.

As the town started its shut down for the night, Will started tugging on my arm. He pointed off to the one lit shop at the end of the right side of the block – Jake's Automotive.

"Hey, let's stop in for a bit, " he said.

I sighed. "Will, I want to go home."

"C'mon, it will only be a second."

"We have to go back for our dresses." I groaned. "And she's not there. You know that, right?"

He smiled conspiratorially. "Can't hurt to peek. Let's go."

Neither of us checked to see if anyone was following. We knew they would tag along behind. I tuned my head in the pointless exercise of checking to make sure it was safe to cross, and fell in step with Will as he walked across the street.

When we got to the shop, the lobby area was empty and there was no one behind the dull orange countertop. Will rang the little electric bell three times. I scanned the photographs of different old-fashioned cars on the wall. One was a convertible with a fabric top and my eyes lingered there. I wondered how they managed to keep dry if the only thing overhead was a fancy piece of cloth.

Charlotte was whispering and giggling in Nate's ear. Will hopped up to lean against the countertop, trying to see into the garage area. After a few moments, Ava joined us. She came to stand beside me. She crossed her arms in front of her and huffed.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Ask me when we get home," she replied.

Thanks to Ethan Powell, we were going to have a particularly spectacular evening.

Jules and Ethan came in last. I didn't turn to see them enter, but I did hear the bell ring as they walked through the threshold.

And then I was distracted as Emmett Cullen's burly figure came through the side entry to help us out. A noticeable hush fell over the group as he stepped up to the counter.

"Can I help you guys?" he asked. "You here to pick up?"

Will jumped down from the counter. His voice was timid. "Oh. No. We were just looking for someone."

Emmett's smile fell away. "Oh, sorry. Jake is…out of town for a while."

I looked into the garage. Emmett's girlfriend was doing something to the engine of a green car. There was a counter that lined the wall behind her where Logan was rifling through a toolbox. I wondered what the connection was between Logan – and by proxy, Seth, though I was trying not to acknowledge that fact – and the Cullens. They all seemed to be friends, and yet I had never seen Logan or Seth stop by the school. And I had never seen any of the Cullens down at La Push. I knew they were into outdoor activities. I wondered why they didn't go to the beach on the sunnier days as we did.

Logan caught me staring and gave a little wave.

I felt my face go red and turned away to study the poster on the right wall that advertised a local smart dealership. I waited as Will's hopes were dashed and he finally gave in to the idea that we should go home.

"Yeah, she's home," Emmett said. "Only Jake is gone. Little trip. We're watching things while he's away."

"Oh," Will replied. "Okay. Thanks anyhow."

We all shuffled out of the shop.

"We should go get our dresses," Charlotte said as we stepped outside. "We're not going anywhere else, right?"

I replied before anyone got a chance to make any more suggestions. "No. And I'm sure Mrs. Marshall wants to close so we should get going."

"Okay," Charlotte agreed.

Jules hooked her arm in Ava's. "I'll come along with, if that's okay."

"Um, sure." Ava's arm hung awkward and limp in Jules', but Ava couldn't say no if she tried.

"Since we're waiting…" Will said. "I think I'll have a look around the back of the shop."

I rolled my eyes. There was no way that trip would bear any fruit. "Let's go," I said to the girls.

The five of us walked down to the end of the block again, and crossed back to Newton's. I was a few steps in front of the rest of them as we reached the shop. I stepped inside with a wave to Mrs. Marshall.

"Aubree, dear," she said. "How was the day around town? Where's Ethan?"

"We had a good time," I said. "He's waiting for us up the block."

"That's good." She handed me the dresses over the counter. "I'm so glad you gals have been taking care of him. His mother worries."

_As well she should. _

"It's not a problem," I replied.

The bell sounded as the girls came in. Jules still had her arm linked in Ava's.

"You got everything?" Ava asked.

I nodded and handed her the garment bag. "Thanks again, Mrs. Marshall."

"You're welcome, ladies."

"What color is your dress?" Jules asked Ava. "Maybe I can get Ethan something matching. That'd be cute."

Ava smiled – small, but genuine. "It's light blue."

"Sounds pretty," Jules said. "Well I don't know I can really promise anything, but I'll try…"

Ava laughed. "I would be very surprised if you got very far at all."

And together they said, "Kid's got issues…" which dissolved into laughter.

We left the shop to meet the boys. Jules and Ava continued their conversation as they walked.

"I just don't know what else I can do," Ava said. "I feel like I'm practically throwing myself at him. Do you have any advice?"

We waited at the curb as a smart drove through the intersection.

"Hmm…" Jules said. "When it comes to the girl stuff, Ethan is…a slow learner. _Believe _me. But I think if you're patient, he'll come around in time. He has to, right?"

The tiny car passed and we crossed the street.

"I suppose…" Ava said. "I swear, if the dance rolls around and we're still in this bizarre limbo world where we have no name for what we are, I might just check out. I don't know how much more I can take of his bullshit."

I laughed. "You should use that word more often."

"That's a fair deadline," Jules said.

They hushed as the shop came into hearing distance. I looked ahead to see Ethan leaning against the storefront talking to Logan of all people. The guy was wearing shorts and a gray tee shirt, holding a dirty rag in his hand. The girls kept walking towards them, but I found myself glued to the floor. I had to wait until he left before I could join the group. There was no way I was going to let any kind of conversation between us happen in front of them.

Logan stood up from the wall. He was staring right at me.

_No. Please no. Not here. Just stay there. _

But he was walking. Towards me.

_Turn. Turn for the shop. Go inside. Leave me alone. _

This did not happen.

They all watched as Logan came to meet me only yards away from where they stood. And just like the evening around the bonfire, they were silent and waiting as he reached me.

"We need to talk," he said. His eyes flicked over to the girls for a second and then came back to me – staring, impatient.

I found myself nodding. "What about?" I asked.

"Not here," he whispered. "C'mon."

He turned away, not bothering to look back and see if I was following. When he got to the doorway of the garage, he hesitated for a moment. He looked down at the ground as I deliberated, shifting my weight.

He was very close to making a scene I didn't want to have happen in front of my friends. I was already going to get questions about the moment he came over and the short, hushed conversation.

_Stay or go?_

That little part of me that kept up hope for all things Seth-related wanted to listen to what he had to say. Even if the conversation had nothing to do with him, I would hold tightly to the little connection I still had to him via Logan.

And I worried that if I didn't go talk to him, he would come back and make things worse in front of everyone else.

Or maybe that was just an excuse.

Either way, I said, "I'll just be a sec, guys." Ava's eyes went wide with silent questions I didn't bother answering.

I followed him into the tiny waiting area of the garage. I sighed as the door swung shut and forced myself to ignore the view out the window. They were all certainly watching.

Emmett Cullen was still in the garage, hovering over his pin-up proportioned girlfriend. As I could hear the metallic clicking of something in the engine being twisted, I figured they could probably hear us in the lobby. But Logan didn't ask them to leave; he just dove into the conversation.

"I'm not allowed to say some things to you," he said.

We weren't off to a very good start. "What?"

One of his hands made a fist and then relaxed. He took a deep breath. "I just—" he broke off, and swallowed. "He's not crazy. I know you think he's crazy, but he's not."

"What do you know about it?" I asked. "You weren't there. You don't know what he said."

"I know _exactly_ what he said."

"How?" I demanded.

"It doesn't matter. I just do." He put the rag he was holding in his pocket.

"Then how can you say that?" I lowered my voice. "Logan, he thinks he's a…" It didn't matter how quiet I was. I still couldn't get the word out.

"I know," Logan replied. "And I can tell you _he's not_ _crazy_."

_Perhaps you're crazy. Perhaps they're _all_ crazy. _

"You have another word for what he is?" I asked.

His eyes went hard, staring me down as if he was trying to say more than he was saying. "Yes. But I'm not allowed to say that word to you."

Oh I knew which word he meant. "Why?" I asked.

"Because he told us not to. Because we're supposed to pretend as if you guys never had that conversation. Because he's trying to let you go and live your life."

"Well…" I sighed. "Is that all you wanted to say?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm leaving now," I said.

"Fine."

I turned on my heel and stormed for the door.

Logan didn't leave it at that. Of course he had to say the one thing I really didn't want to hear. "You know you're making a mistake. You should give him a chance. You owe him that much."

I froze in just in front of the doorway. My hand was on the knob.

He was right. Of course he was right.

I turned my head slightly but didn't acknowledge his words. I turned the knob and listened to the bell ring. No sooner was I out the door than Ava was beside me.

"What was that about?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I muttered. "Leave it alone, please."

"What's going on, Aubree?" she asked, her hand on my shoulder.

It was a short conversation. But during those small minutes Logan's words found themselves a nice little corner in my head to settle down in. And all my fear and grief for what had gone on between Seth and I turned to something else.

Guilt.

I brushed her off and shook my head. I took a deep breath to address the group. "C'mon guys. Let's go home."

* * *

**I will not beg you not to hate me. I will just say…**

**Thoughts? **


	9. Chapter 9

**a/n: Yes, Aubree is talking again. :) I'm going to try to keep it to Tapioca Tuesdays again. (I know, I missed yesterday, sorry.) **

**Thanks go to my lovely betas: Crysross and Bririzzle. These next couple of chapters require more eyes than I have, to keep them in canon with Canon, and these ladies are super helpful. Not to mention they save me from sounding idiotic on a daily basis. **

**Thanks to all my friends on [t20s], and Twilighted, and the FB fan group. You guys are the bestest. **

**Enough babbling. Onward we go. **

**

* * *

**

Part 9

Awakening

Ava would not let it go. The ride home was a hushed interrogation that I am quite certain everyone on the rail was straining to overhear. Was I dating Logan? No, of course not. Don't be silly. What did he want from me? It's nothing. Why couldn't I talk to her about it? Because he asked me not to. So it is _something_, isn't it…?

Not exactly a conversation I wanted to encourage. When we got home from town and she realized I wasn't going to answer any of her questions, the quiet conversation took on a decidedly worse topic.

"So let me get this straight," she whispered as we walked up the front porch steps. "You refuse to tell me anything about what is going on with Logan, you refuse to tell me anything about why you skip off to God knows where and expect me to cover for you, and you expect me to be okay with both of these things continuing indefinitely?"

I stared at the front door as I replied. "Yes."

"Well, isn't that wonderful," she said. She slipped around me, her shoulder knocking against mine, and pulled the door open. "Mom! We're home!"

She didn't bother to hold the door for me. I pushed forward with the heel of my hand as it came to slam in my face.

"Hey, girls," Mom said. "Did you have a good time in town? How was dress shopping?" She was standing at the kitchen counter chopping vegetables.

Ava lifted her garment bag and started to unzip the front. "It was perfect, really." She pulled the skirt out at the bottom. "I love my dress. Look at the beading."

I walked towards the stairs with my bag slung over my arm.

"It's beautiful, Ava," Mom replied. She slid the carrots and celery into a bowl. "Aubree, what about yours?"

I stopped at the foot of the stairway. "It's just a black dress. Nothing fancy."

"Can I see it?" Mom asked. Maybe she wanted to make sure my skirt wasn't too short. Or maybe she wanted to make sure it was short enough…

"I guess," I replied. Ava was trying to not acknowledge my existence by staring at the little twinkling edge of her dress. She tucked the skirt back into the bag and slowly zipped it up. I thought maybe it would be a good idea to get out of her way for a while. "You know, Mom, my feet hurt a little from walking around all day. I think I should go upstairs and rest. We can do dress stuff after dinner."

Mom set the knife down. "Are you feeling alright?" She took a few steps towards me.

"Oh, I'm fine. I promise. Just the feet." I shifted my weight.

She paused at the kitchen table. "Oh. Okay. But if you need anything at all you promise you'll let me know?"

"Definitely."

"Mom, what about shoes?" Ava asked. "I was trying to think of what I have that would go well."

"Hm?" Mom asked. As she turned her head back to Ava, I slipped up the stairs. I wasn't entirely certain if Ava was trying to help me escape or if she really wanted the attention.

Ava's voice carried upstairs. "I think I have a couple of pairs that would work, but I'm not sure…"

When I walked into my room, I threw the garment bag over my desk chair. I shut the door quietly and went to sit on my bed. The guilt returned, an old friend now. I tucked my knees against my chest and wrapped my arms around them.

Logan was right. No matter what was wrong with Seth, no matter what caused him to think he was…something else…he didn't deserve my desertion. He was still the same person who saved my life. He was still the guy who walked me to the rail on a very dark night in the woods.

He was still _Seth_.

I needed to fix things with him, but I didn't know how. The obvious choice would be to go to his house and talk to him about the whole thing. To let him know that I wasn't bothered by whatever delusions haunted him. Only I couldn't call them delusions. I had to be nice about it, and that was the hard part.

Ava posed another problem. Now that she knew that there was something going on, I worried that she would insist on enforcing Mom and Dad's martial law and tag along with me. She had enough blackmail material at this point. I just didn't know if she was angry enough to use it.

Lastly, though Logan was angry, I didn't quite understand why my opinion would have such an impact on Seth. Who cared if stupid Aubree Parson of Forks High thought any less of him, anyway?

Maybe it was just Logan's anger. Maybe Seth couldn't care less.

At dinner, Ava and I didn't talk directly to each other. We kept up a good conversation with our parents, and I don't think they noticed. We talked about the dance plans, and as I promised, after dinner I showed Mom the little black dress. She nodded, smiled, and told me that I didn't have to dance with Will the whole night if I didn't want to.

What she didn't know: no one really "dances" with Will. What you do is stand in front of the whirling dervish that he transforms into and hope you don't lose a limb in the process.

When I had convinced Mom that I was excited about the dance and all the implied prospects it offered, I excused myself to my room for the night. Only two minutes had passed when there was a soft knock at my door.

"Aubree?" Ava said. "Can I come in?" She didn't try to crack the door open and peek inside.

"Sure," I replied. I reached over to switch on the light by my bed. The knob turned and she stepped inside, pausing just past the threshold to turn and shut the door behind her. "What's up?"

When she looked back to me, she had the glimmer of fresh tears in her eyes. "You're not going tonight, are you?"

"No," I replied.

She nodded. "I figured."

"I'm sorry."

"It's just…it's been a rough day, you know?" she asked.

"I know," I said. "Do you want to sit down? Talk about it?"

She didn't move to sit, but she did let our argument go on pause so she could vent. "I don't know, Aubree. I just…I watch them together and I just don't know."

"I think that says a lot," I replied.

"Do you think he…or she…"

I sighed. "I think he doesn't know. Really."

"Doesn't know what? That he…_likes_ her?"

I nodded.

She wiped away the tears before they could spill. "And what made you think that? I mean…did he say something? Did I miss something? Did he _do_ something?"

"It was just an observation. He has this smile when she—" But I knew Ava didn't want to hear the details of why I had come to the conclusion. I watched the stiff upper lip lose its strength, her throat move as she swallowed the tears away. I needed to say was what she wanted to hear, but I wasn't in the mood. "I'm sorry, Ava. You should let him go."

The reply was so quick it almost overlapped my words. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I just think it would be better for everyone if you just…gave it up."

"Just because she came down here for a stupid visit, and he's happy about it, doesn't mean they're _in love_. And it doesn't mean he's going to abandon me for her. I mean…she doesn't even _live_ here."

"I just don't want to see you get hurt—"

"Then stop hurting me," she replied.

We stared at each other.

"I'm done talking," Ava said. "Stay here, see if I care."

"I'm sorry—"

She held up a hand. "Not right now. Because it's not true."

She was right. "Have fun then."

"Whatever."

***

When I close my eyes at night I can see in my mind's eye all the things going on in the house. Does this ever happen to you? The tiny sounds that I can hear become full-fledged stories in my head, fueled by my overactive imagination.

That night I heard Ava when she snuck out for the game. As the soft click of her door echoed down the hall and she shuffled her way downstairs, it was almost like I was watching her. I could see her in that pink sweater she liked to wear so much, gripping a flashlight, throwing a disheartened look at my door as she passed. The sound of the front door meant she was stepping out to the stoop – I could just make out the low rumble of an old car out on the street. Ethan was driving, and though I couldn't hear her footsteps, I could still imagine Ava waving from the porch and running up to meet them.

I could see Ava and Jules insisting the other take the front seat.

The muffled slam of a car door. I wondered who won the polite contest. Probably Ava. Though winning really meant she lost in the end.

The wind blew its way through the trees, whistling and snapping in the leaves. I could see them shaking on the branches just outside my window.

When I drifted off to sleep, the sounds and pictures followed me. They wove their way into my dreams. In my head, I had gone along with them, begrudgingly, to the cemetery. Ava and Jules took turns fawning over Ethan as he grinned his stupid grin at the dark road ahead of us. Jules was in the front seat and Ava sat beside me. Neither of them seemed to care I was even there.

Even in dreams I can't find enough patience to watch this unfold.

So I turned my attention to the dark forest outside. At first I couldn't see anything but a run of black and more black, but as my eyes adjusted I could make out individual bushes and trees. Ethan didn't drive fast enough for them to lose shape.

There was a rustling noise beyond the glass. The voices in the car faded away and all I could hear were those bushes outside. They were moving; I could see it. Something was running alongside the car, and it was keeping pace with us.

Then, as the road turned, the thing broke free from the bushes.

_It's a wolf. Of course it's a wolf. _

The wolf didn't slow, and he looked over at me as he caught up with my window. His fur was shining in the moonlight; there was an intelligence in his eyes. I turned to see if anyone else in the car was watching this insanity unfold, but the girls were too busy trying to wrap their arms around Ethan as he drove. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if that was really safe, but I didn't say anything.

Because the wolf outside began to growl.

I barely heard it, but I felt the vibrations rattling the glass. His lips pulled up, bearing his teeth. The growl turned to a snapping bark. He wasn't looking at me anymore; he looked off ahead of us as we continued down the street.

Jules whispered something in Ethan's ear. Ava leaned forward in her seat, trying to hear what she was saying.

The growling and barking dissolved to a whimper. It was quiet enough that I shouldn't have been able to hear it, but I could. He looked at me one last time – no more teeth, no more glare. Puppy dog eyes. Sad eyes. Goodbye eyes.

He slowed his pace and I turned my neck to watch as his run petered out. Why was he giving up? Did Ethan hit the accelerator? Either we were going too fast, or he didn't want to follow us after all. His profile fell behind my window and I had to shift around to watch him out the back.

He stood on the pavement, watching us as we drove away. He came to a stop and sat down, turning to a silhouette, growing distant in the dark.

_No. Don't go. Please, don't go._

"Aubree?" Ava asked. I tore my eyes away from the little figure. "Do you think we'll ever get there?"

I wasn't sure what she was asking but I answered anyway. "Of course we will, Ava."

I turned back to look out the window.

He was gone.

***

The guilt was waiting for me in the morning. It followed me around like my own personal ghost, haunting me at the breakfast table. Ava made no mention of how things went with Ethan at the game, or if she had proven my theory wrong. But really, she didn't talk to me at all, even when I tried to make conversation over our bowls of cereal. I wasn't used to being ignored, but it didn't take long before I gave up trying.

We ate in silence and I wallowed, watching my cereal turn soggy.

I wanted to skip out to La Push so I could try to make up for some of the damage I had done, but with Ava home, I didn't feel safe enough to leave. I wasn't too sure she would honor our usual agreement and cover for me. In fact, I was pretty certain she was angry enough to tell on me.

So that left me stuck in the house for as long as Ava chose to hang around.

_Maybe I should just tell her everything. _

_Except I promised I wouldn't. _

But as soon as I had the thought, I realized I really could use a friend to talk to about the whole mess, and there wasn't anyone who could ever possibly understand, even if I wasn't bound to keep the madness a secret.

The hours passed and I grew anxious. There was a pull inside me, straining against the need to stay put. The guilt had invited friends over for drinks and laughs. Remorse, dread, fear, anger, grief…there was a veritable who's who of unwanted emotions running rampant inside me. All built around three short sentences.

_"You know you're making a mistake. You should give him a chance. You owe him that much."_

I was back in my room, feigning homework, but really watching the clouds rolling in from the north and trying to keep from thrumming my fingers against my leg.

Logan was adamant on the idea that Seth was not crazy, and Logan seemed like a pretty straight-up kind of guy. These two facts would not compute in my head. Because what they proposed was simply impossible.

_If Logan is not crazy, then Seth is not crazy. If Seth is not crazy, then Seth is a…_

_Nope. Start again. _

_If Logan is not crazy…_

Either they were both nuts, or I was.

Maybe it was the latter.

Just after noon, Ava finally announced to Mom that she was going over to Charlotte's house. I didn't wait to hear the conversation that followed or try to figure out how long she would be gone. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, I was pulling on my socks and shoes. I stood just at the top of the stairs, waiting for her to leave. I watched her step outside, and just as she shut the door, I was running down the stairs.

"Hey, Mom," I said. "I think I'm going to head over to Will's house. I'm feeling a little cooped up around here."

Mom was sitting at the kitchen table with her notebook open in front of her. "Alright, hon. I think Ava just left. If you hurry, you could catch up to her and you guys could ride the rail together."

"Right. Sounds good. Thanks," I replied.

Mom's eyes didn't turn as she said her goodbye. "Dinner's at seven!"

"Yep!" I called back. I pulled the door open and ran outside.

My waiting game continued. I could see up the street to the rail stop where Ava was sitting. I couldn't wait with her, and I certainly couldn't take the same rail as her. So I hid in the patch of forest that lined the driveway until she boarded. The small scrapes and possible bug bites were worth it. Once she was on, I was able to go and sit by myself.

It was another twenty minutes before the rail came back on the southbound lap. And while I still felt anxious as I stepped aboard, still felt guilty, there was a part of me that was just plain happy I was going where I was.

I sat down on the first seat and watched the dark clouds crawling across the sky.

We were in for a storm.

***

I shivered as I stepped off the rail in La Push. I was wearing only a thin white sweater, no hood, left over from lounging around the house. I should have changed, but I didn't think of it until it was far too late, and I wasn't turning back now.

I took a moment to gather my courage. The rail gave a quiet huff and took off for its next stop. A huddle of figures stood on the porch of Seth's house, but I couldn't make out the faces from the distance. I wondered if he was among them, if this was going to be an awkward conversation in front of an audience, or if he would make them go away for my sake. Not that I deserved it.

I walked slowly down the gravel driveway, hoping to give them a little warning. As I approached, their heads began to turn; the huddle uncurled itself to a line of three barely-clothed guys that stood across the front of the porch. The shortest one was the only one that looked semi-decent; he was wearing a gray sleeveless shirt and a pair of shoes to boot. Why were they always wearing shorts? Didn't they care about the cold?

Seth was not among them. Logan was at the center, holding something in his hand. The others I had seen before, at the bonfire, but didn't know their names. They each stared me down with blank eyes and bland expressions.

Logan walked down the steps. "What are you doing here?"

I stopped just a couple yards away. "I came to talk to Seth. I just wanted to—"

"He's gone," Logan said. The business face disappeared. His eyebrows pulled together in a deep scowl. "So go home."

A wind blew past, tossing my hair. I crossed my arms to keep warm. "Where did he go? I need to—"

"Listen, Aubree, I think it's better if you just go home and let us take care of this," Logan replied.

I looked at the other two who were still standing on the porch, hoping one of them would give me at least a little information, even if they didn't know me very well. "Did he say anything about why he left? Did he say when he would be back?"

But neither of them said a word. Evidently Logan was the spokesperson here. "No." He angled his head towards the guys on the porch. "Let's go. We're wasting time." He started walking towards the forest off to the right of the house.

The smaller one walked around the porch railing and jumped lithely over the stairs. He fell in step behind Logan.

"I still don't think this is any of their business—" the tallest one muttered as he walked down the porch steps.

"Shut up, Jonah," Logan said.

I ran to catch up. "Are you going to go looking for him? Can I come along with you?"

Logan stopped short. "No, Aubree. I said go home. You don't belong here."

His words stung but I kept pace with him. He was walking faster now; we reached the forest's edge. "I just want to help."

"Then leave us to do what we need to do. We'll take care of things."

"What does that mean? What's going on?"

He stopped walking, and the two guys waited as he turned to face me. "We don't have time to talk to you about this." He put his hands on my shoulders. "Stay."

"But—"

"No. We're done." And before I could make another argument, he sprinted into the trees. Without a word, Jonah ran after him. The younger one hung back, pulling off his shoes and socks.

"Trip! Let's go!" Jonah yelled. The voice was already distant.

"Where are they going?" I asked him; it was almost a plea.

He looked at me, an apology in his eyes. "I wish I could help—" He was hopping on one foot, working his way out of the second sock.

"Trip!"

"Oh forget it…" Trip muttered. He abandoned the shoes and sock in a heap on the dirt and took off running with one bare foot and one half-socked. Even with the bizarre footwear, he was much faster than me.

It was futile, but I had to try to follow. "Wait!" I shouted ahead of me, running as fast as I could through the ever-thickening brush. I wasn't fast enough to catch them. I heard their footsteps in the distance, and then a strange ripping noise. "Wait!"

A flip of cloth, caught on the wind, hit my face. I pulled it off my eyes only to see that they were long gone and I had no way of knowing which way was the one they had taken. I slowed to a walk and then stopped altogether.

_It's all my fault. He wouldn't have left if—_

A wolf howled, far away, entirely too coincidental for my tastes. Two more howls joined in and I shivered.

_No. _

_Couldn't be. _

Thunder pealed overhead.

I looked down to the cloth in my hand. It was gray. Tee shirt material.

_Could it?

* * *

_

**Thoughts? Questions? **

**OH!!!!!! Thank are owed to all who voted for **_**Canon**_** in the Indies! It made it through to the next round on two categories: Best Canon and Best Original Character. **

**Voting for the finals starts tonight around 9 EST. Please vote. Even if it isn't for Canon. There are some great stories over there that need love. **


	10. Chapter 10

**a/n: Wow. I'm doing really bad at this whole Tuesday thing. Sorry, gang. **

**Thanks are owed to the fantastic beta team of Crysross and Bririzzle, without which I would be lost at sea. I love you, ladies. **

**Thanks also go to the lovely folks on the Twilighted thread, the FB fan group, and my [t20s], most of which are converging on Dallas right now. Hope its wonderful, loves.**

**Thanks last, but not least, to the lovely reviewers who keep me typing. I'll reply this time around, I promise. **

**That's all I'll say about that... **

**Onward. Today I am Team Polson Girl.

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**

Part 10

Almost Only Counts in Horseshoes and Hand Grenades

**a-****ban-****don **-_ verb _- 1 . to leave completely and finally; forsake utterly; desert; _to abandon a child; to abandon a sinking ship. _

***

There was nothing I could do. I couldn't go home. Not when I had the scrap of tee shirt in my hand, whispering to me. I couldn't think about catching up with them – they were too fast. I closed my fist around the slip of gray and looked deeper into the wood. It was silent and they were nowhere to be seen. Even the howls had faded away. I was left alone in the trees.

My eyes landed on a color that didn't seem to belong: a piece of blue lying on the ground beside a patch of bushes. I took a few steps forward and it began to make a little more sense.

It was a pair of shorts. Logan's shorts.

_Why…_

I reached down and picked it up, my heart thrumming at the idea that they had left a clear, if bizarre, trail.

_"I know you think he's crazy, but he's not."_

After ten feet there was another bit of shirt. A few feet later, another pair of shorts.

"_You weren't there. You don't know what he said."_

"_I know _exactly_ what he said."_

There was no friendly navigator to guide me back to the rail stop this time, yet I continued forward, willing to get lost.

_"Logan, he thinks he's a…" _

_"I know. And I can tell you he's_ not crazy_." _

I followed the trail for who knows how long, gathering the scraps of shirt and random clothing items strewn through the woods. When the path ended, I had an armful of clothes, and I was pretty certain there had to be at least two naked Quileute guys running through a forest just before a storm. OR rather, that was what the rational side of was saying.

I sat down on a rock and began to fold the clothes. The sides began to argue.

_Werewolves don't usually wear clothes._

_You can't actually think what Seth said is true, can you? _

_It all seems so… unexplainable. _

_Coincidence. Get over it._ _Go home. This doesn't really have anything to do with you._

Ah, this was the crux of the problem. I couldn't just get over it. Because something had made Seth want to leave, and the longer I thought about it, the more it seemed like maybe he skipped town because of me. The timing of it was just…wrong. It was probably just my ego running away with itself, but if I did have anything to do with him leaving I couldn't just…

But I had no way to find him and no one to help me. I had one lead – and it had just run off into the forest, shedding clothes along the way.

I was pretty useless. A lost child.

A tiny pattering of rain started to fall around me. It woke up the smell of the wood, filling up the air with pine and wet leaves. I stacked the clothes and picked them up, heading back to the house. Maybe I could help in one small task; maybe I could bring these things back to the house, and maybe it would contribute somehow.

_But if it is true…_

_If it is…_

_Hypothetically, of course…_

_What does that mean? What kind of person is he? _

_Well, not a person I guess. Not really. _

I wanted to laugh; it was all so ridiculous.

When I reached the little old house, the rain was coming down at a steady pace. The drops were running through my hair and I was shielding the pile of clothes as I ran up the porch steps. I set them down just in front of the door, gray scraps and all.

_It would mean he is dangerous. It would mean he isn't someone I should be around. _

_Either way, I should probably leave him be. Crazy or werewolf, there really is no reason I should…_

Save for the debt.

That was all I was hanging around for, right?

God, I had no idea anymore.

Because the idea that he had _left_ and might never come back…

…was unacceptable.

I couldn't put into words _why_ it mattered so much. All I could really admit was the loss I felt when I thought about how far away he might be. I wanted to mourn an unrealized future that dissolved into the rain as the miles fell between us.

How could he leave? Didn't he care?

I had argued this point with myself for far too long. It wasn't really the issue anymore.

If he did leave, why should _I _care?

Because I…

I stared at the door. I had the urge to knock, even though I knew no one was home. The clouds grew thicker and the sky got a little darker. There was no light in the window. Who knew if there ever would be again?

I was trying to convince myself that I just wanted to know he was okay. Trying to take a mental step back. It was probably the healthy thing to do.

No.

Two steps back. I just wanted to know I wasn't the reason. Then I could call it a day and never think about him again. Move on with my life.

But who would know that? Logan obviously hadn't a clue, and it wasn't like I spent a lot of time down on the beach to get to know all of Seth's friends. The few times I did see him talk to people, it was always the three of them. Always the same three. Just like the day he seemed to go crazy in front of me, they were there.

_Do werewolves hear better than humans? _

I strained to remember if they were on the porch when it all went down. They probably overheard.

No. They had left, right? Along with…

Edward.

Cullen.

Seth _did_ have a friend, and from the incoherent pieces of their conversation, it seemed they were close enough to talk about...stuff. Maybe Seth had spoken to him about why he was leaving. Maybe Edward was the key to the burning anxiety that was bound to keep me up at night for a long time to come. I would just have to wait until Monday when I could—

God, would I really have to live through an entire night before I could talk to him about it?

Monday was too far away.

I needed to know _now_.

A flash of lightning lit up the front of the house. For a split second I could see every inch of Seth's living room. I could see the little sofa, down to the pattern of tiny blue dots that ran across the fabric. I could see the coffee table, strewn with discarded cups and random objects that looked like they belonged in other parts of the house: a notebook, closed and sleeping, a half-empty glass of water, and a sandwich sitting on a plate with only one bite taken out of it.

On a little bookshelf in the corner I could make out rows and rows of old-fashioned books. He seemed to have quite a collection, and I had half a thought that I should have done a little more research when I was looking to get him a gift. Maybe I could have found one at an antique shop for him…but that thought was interrupted by the last thing that caught my eye.

On the top shelf, centered in a row of picture frames, was a pair of brown hiking shoes.

The thunder rang out. I found myself crying – hysterical, violent sobs that made me lower my head and clutch my shirt at my chest. I turned around and leaned against the house. The rain's gentle rhythm suddenly multiplied into a rushing torrent all around me.

_I am so pathetic. _

At least he kept the shoes.

_Get a grip. _

Or…they would stay here while he lived whatever life he had decided to run away to find.

Without me.

_Of course without you, stupid. You're seventeen, for crying out loud. _

I drew in a sharp breath and wiped my eyes. I had done all I could. It was time to go home. My crying turned to hiccups. I needed to get my act together if I was going to walk in the front door and have to face Mom.

And who knows if Ava had come home. Though I was likely safe for a while as Charlotte was probably a lot more willing to indulge her whining over Ethan and his best friend. Poor Charlotte probably got an earful during the weeks she worried about Bella too…

_Ethan Powell is friends with Bella Black. _

_Bella Black is dating Edward Cullen. _

_Ethan can help me find Edward. _

It seemed too simple, though appropriately imposing. Could I really ask him for help?

I didn't really have a choice.

As soon as I had pieced it together in my head, I was running for the rail stop. It didn't matter that the rain was like a cold shower, soaking me through to the skin. It didn't matter that I hadn't ever spoken more than three words to Ethan, or never really wanted anything to do with him. It didn't matter that he was in the slow process of breaking my sister's heart. The decision of whether or not I was going never came up for mental debate. Ethan was the answer, and I was on my way.

***

**a-****ban-****don **-_ verb _- 1 . to leave completely and finally; forsake utterly; desert; _to abandon a child; to abandon a sinking ship. _

***

When the rail pulled up to the stop, I was shivering. The rain hadn't let up and I knew it was stupid of me to step out into that weather again, but I couldn't find the energy to care. All I knew was I had a need in me, burning me from the inside out, and I had never been so anxious in my entire life. I made quick work of walking down the aisle and out of the rail. I ran up the hill as fast as I could.

There were only a few lights on in Mrs. Marshall's house. The downstairs window was glowing with yellow light, but I couldn't see any movement inside. One of the windows upstairs was lit as well. I wondered what I was going to have to say to Mrs. Marshall to explain why I looked the way I did, or why I was there. Or maybe it would be Ethan's mom, whom I didn't know at all, who would ask what I was doing on her front porch.

I stepped up to the front door and knocked, catching my breath as I waited for someone to answer. The rain was loud. I couldn't make out any sounds inside the house, no clinking of dishes in the kitchen, no music or conversation in the living room.

_Maybe nobody's home. _

I waited a minute more and then knocked again.

_No. _

_You have to be here. _

_Ethan. _

I put all my effort behind my fist and pounded on the wood. "Please be here. Please…" I pounded again.

I had come all that way for nothing. No one was home, and I was just a sopping wet girl standing on the porch of an empty house. Just like I had been all day long.

I wasn't going to cry about it. Maybe he was in town. The Polson girl had to go home at some point, right? She had school tomorrow just like we did. I just had to track them down at the station, or some point along the way. I took a step back, began to turn for the driveway when—

The door opened.

There in the doorway, flushed and annoyed, was Ethan Powell.

The words came out of my mouth before I thought it over. "Ethan," I said. "You have to help me."

He stared at me, dumbfounded perhaps. This was not completely unexpected. His hair was wet, as were his jeans, but his black sweater was dry. I waited for him to say something, anything, but he didn't.

"Ethan?" I said.

His eyes went wide and he pulled the door back. "God. Come in. You must be freezing."

"Thanks," I replied. The cold was starting to get to me and I wrapped my arms around myself. It only helped to make me colder. My shoes squished as I walked.

He disappeared around the corner and I followed. The kitchen was empty and dark. He pulled a dishrag from the fridge handle and brought it back over to me. "Here. I can get you a bigger one if you just—"

"That's okay, Ethan. I don't want to spend a lot of time here I just…" I ran the towel over my hair and squeezed as much water out as I could. "Can we sit down?"

His eyes darted up to the stairway for a moment. "Um. Okay."

We walked over to the little circular table and took a seat. Ethan stared blankly at his hands and I tilted my head down to try to get his attention. "Ethan? You in there?"

He sighed. "Sorry. You said you needed help with something?"

"Yes." I swallowed, trying to figure out how I could… "How do I explain this right?" _How do I not talk about werewolves? _"Um. Hmm…"

I wondered how much Ava had told him. Everyone else in the group knew the story behind how I had been saved once upon a time, so it seemed likely that someone had told him by now. I just wasn't sure how detailed the account was. I didn't want to have this particular conversation with Ethan Powell of all people, but it was my only way into the story that was safe to talk about.

"I have this…friend…" I said. "Named Seth."

His eyebrows came together slightly, but he only prompted me to continue. "Oh?"

"Yeah. He was…well he helped me out once. Saved my life really. You've probably heard the story by now."

"Yeah, I heard," he replied.

I could feel the blush spreading across my face. "So I went to talk to him today, about…well it doesn't matter what I was there to talk to him about. I just went to talk to him. Only he wasn't there."

"So?" His eyes flicked over to the stairs again.

I sighed. I was going to have to explain more things I didn't want to explain. "Well…I don't know if you met his friend, Logan? The one that was at the garage yesterday?"

"Sure. I met him at the bonfire," he said.

"Well, Logan was there when I got down to the reservation, and some of the other guys who live down there. They said Seth was…gone."

I didn't wait for any kind of reaction. I was on a roll, and I didn't want to stop for fear it wouldn't want to come out again. "Only they wouldn't say where he went or when he would be back. They just told me to go home and to forget about it. That they would take care of things. Whatever that's supposed to mean…

"The thing is…I can't help but think his absence has something to do with me. I—well I said something that wasn't too nice the last time I saw him. And I'm afraid he left because of it. Though it's kind of ridiculous to think I had that kind of effect on him.

"But they won't say a word. They won't let me help. They won't let me do _anything_…"

My eyes didn't leave the wood grain of the table. Ethan's voice was gentle, but confused. "And I'm your first thought to help with this because…?"

I looked up at him. "Because you're friends with Bella Black."

The curiosity in his face dissolved to something else. Fear? Discomfort? His eyes darted around the room and his hand clenched to a fist. "I think 'friends' is a strong word—"

I wasn't going to let him get out on an excuse like that. "Doesn't matter. You're friendly with her, and I heard that Edward talked to you too. Here's the thing – I know Seth is friends with the Cullens. And Edward is the only person he has ever mentioned to me. I'm hoping they'll help me. I'm hoping maybe they know _something. _I can't imagine Seth would leave and not tell someone where he went and why, and I'm hoping Edward might be that someone."

"So what do you want _me_ to do exactly?" he asked.

I took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing. _"I want you to take me to Bella Black's house and convince her to get Edward to come over and talk to me."

I could see the impending rejection on his face before he spoke. "I don't know, Aubree. I'm not too sure that's a good idea. I mean, sure, Bella and I are in the same class and all, but I wouldn't really call us _friends_. And it's not like I—"

"Ethan," I said. "I understood you the first time you said that. But…please? Please help me with this. I have to set this right. I owe him."

_You are the only chance I have. _

He thought this over, and I figured he was just trying to come up with a new and more convincing way to tell me no. He opened his mouth and then shut it again. His brow drew down as he stared blankly at his fist.

And then he closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.

"Did they say _when_ he left?" he asked.

_Why? _I shook my head. "They didn't say much at all. Just…"

_Just that I should go home. Just that I was in their way. Just that I didn't belong there. _

"Yeah?"

"Just stuff. He was gone. Not sure when he would be back."

"Did they actually say he _left_? Or just that he was gone?"

What was the difference? What did it matter?

Why did Ethan Powell care so much all of a sudden about the semantics of werewolves?

"'Gone' is the word they used," I said. "Why? What's the difference?"

He didn't answer. He went back to staring at his hands. He wrapped his fingers against the table, lost on some train of thought. I just wished he would take me along for the ride.

"Ethan?" I asked. "So will you help me?"

Still no answer. He wouldn't even look up at me. I waited a couple moments more. My leg bounced underneath the table.

"Ethan. The silence is killing me."

"Sorry…I just…" he finally replied. "I think you should go home and not worry about all this."

_Not going to happen._ "How can you say that? If him leaving had _anything_ to do with me…I'd just…I'd be…" The words and cold and anxiety all made for a very hard sentence to finish. I had been worrying over it for far too long.

"Whoa, calm down. I'm sure it will—"

"No," I said. No more tears now. I was done playing the part of the stupid, weak girl who ran behind the crowd, crying and hoping to be included in the game. I was going to help. There were no other choices. "You don't understand. I cannot be the person responsible for this and still go on with my life. If you _don't _take me down there to talk to Edward, I will just figure out how to get there by myself. I'm sure someone else knows where they live. Hell, I could ask my dad and—"

He sighed again. "Fine. I'll take you. Please don't make any of this worse by telling anyone. You didn't say anything to Ava about this, did you? Because that would just be…gah…"

"No," I replied. "For the first time in our lives, we are not speaking to one another."

"Oh," he said. "I'm…sorry."

This was the least of my problems. "Don't be. It had to happen. Sadly." I stood up from the table. "Alright…let's go."

The sound of his scooting chair echoed back into the house, and as I watched him stand, a figure stepped into the doorway to the kitchen. It was the girl, the best friend, the problem. She hadn't gone home after all.

She was wearing a sweater that looked to be a couple sizes too big for her and a pair of plaid pajama pants. They were rolled at her hips, also too big, it seemed. She wore no shoes or socks, and her hair was damp from the rain or the shower.

"Ethan?" She tilted her head and a piece of hair fell into her eyes. "Where are you going?"

I looked over at Ethan. His eyes were closed again. "Just give me a minute, okay, Aubree?"

There was no time for this drama, but I had no choice. "Fine."

He turned around and walked over to her, pausing about a yard away. His voice was quiet but the house was quieter, and I could hear every word he said. "I have to go…take care of something."

"Okay," the girl replied. "Well just give me two seconds and I can change and we—"

_No. Not allowed. She can't just—_

"No," Ethan said. "You can't come along."

He was my savior.

"Oh. Why? What's going on?" I was trying to keep my eyes on safe things in the room: the floor, the chair next to me, the refrigerator. I wasn't there. I was anywhere else but in that room with them. But, at the same time, I needed to know how he would answer the question. Best friends, right?

"I…I can't really talk about it," Ethan said. His voice cracked a little.

Ethan Powell was growing on me.

"Oh really?" she replied with a chuckle. "That's…great. Good for you kid."

"I'm so sorry, Jules. I just—"

Her reply was bitter, cold. "It's fine. Really. Go have your fun. Enjoy Forks. Enjoy Aubree, Ava, the lot of 'em. I'll get changed and find my way to the rail station."

"Jules, please…" I felt bad for him then. The pain was so plain in his voice, I knew I was right about them. There was just no way they were only friends, and from the side of my eye, I saw him reach for her hand.

There was a soft shuffle as she flinched backwards. "Don't. You. Dare."

Theirs was a sinking ship.

"I'm sorry," he said.

And it was too late.

"Whatever," she replied. She turned for the stairs and was gone before I could even begin to count.

It was my fault. Really, I should have been happy in Ava's stead. He got what he deserved, after all. But I couldn't dredge up the bitterness he had earned.

Instead, I found myself apologizing. "Ethan, I'm sorry that I—"

He hung his head. "Don't," he said. "Let's just go."

"Okay."

He didn't say a word as we walked out to the door. I was quicker than he was, and when we reached the entryway it was my hand on the knob, waiting for him as he stared back into the house.

"I know this isn't easy for you, Ethan." I pulled the door open. "So…thank you."

He looked back at me, but didn't reply. He didn't need to. The heartbreak was written in his empty eyes.

_Sometimes we don't get to keep them. Sometimes they're ours for a just little while. _

I nodded and ducked out the doorway into the rain.

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**Thoughts? Questions? Concerns?**


	11. Chapter 11

**a/n: Hey there. Remember me? Absence makes the heart grow fonder, yeah? Maybe not. **

**Yeah this is still going on, just maybe a little slower than usual. I am so excited for some post-Canon scenes I wrote a long time back that I have no excuse to not get there. So no worries. **

**Love to the ladies of t20s. Love out to the folks here at ff who keep holding on. Love to the FB group gang. **

**Thanks and love to Crysross and Bririzzle for being so awesome there's not a word that really to describe them properly. I'll invent one now: awestacular. Or something. Besty betas a girl could get. **

**The song for this chapter is **_**Like Lions **_**by The Queen Killing Kings. I hope this isn't too much work, but if you're interested: www[dot]myspace[dot]com/thequeenkillingkings (it's the last song in the list they have there) **

**Or I'm posting a link to an outdoor show they did a while back, but the quality's not as good.**

**Okay. Enough. Onward. **

**Today I am Team Will

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**

Part 11

Maybe We Were Never in Kansas to Begin

When I was fifteen years old, Ava, Will, and I went camping alone for the first time. Usually Dad took us for a trip during the summer, but that year he had too many meetings, and he had to cancel. We thought it wasn't going to happen at all, but Will managed to convince him that if we didn't go far, we would be safe. It took a very long conversation and promising to keep within a mile radius.

We set camp near a stream somewhere east of our house. Will got the fire going and Ava and I took all of five minutes doing our autotent set up. When nightfall came, and the hotdogs were black enough for consumption, Ava convinced Will he should tell us a scary story.

"Hmm…" he said with a full mouth. After he swallowed he added, "Scary story?" Another bite. "Hmm…"

The firelight flickered. Will's face was orange with the glow.

"Well?" I asked.

He held up his hand and closed his eyes. "One second. I just want to make sure I get it right."

Ava shifted in her little collapsible chair. The fire snapped.

Will took a deep breath. "In year 2020, there lived a man on the edge of town named Allister Brown."

"If this is like the one you told me about the man from Nantucket—" I said.

"No." Will shushed me. "Allister Brown was a weird fellow who lived alone. He was in his late twenties; he had no family and no friends, always kept to himself. The only thing he loved was his house and a giant old oak tree that grew in the front yard. He had a shop on Main Street where he sold antique things. Jewelry, watches, clocks…you name the old piece of junk, he had it.

"One morning, before town open, three guys from the football team came to town with masks. It was senior prank season, and they decided to paint the town red…literally. Across each of the storefronts they scrawled random obscenities, pictures, symbols…

"When they got to Allister's shop, the lead guy, Bernie, thought it would be fun to personalize his handiwork. He wrote, 'Go home, Freak,' across the front door and smashed in the windows. This had him laughing all the way home.

"When the store owners came in and found all the damage, they decided to hold a meeting. Of course, Bernie and his two friends couldn't resist sitting outside town hall, listening in through a window. They smiled, proud of themselves as they heard how long it would take them to clean up and repair everything. They chuckled at the shopkeepers' pleas to the police to find who had done it."

Will smiled. He set the rest of his hot dog down on his plate. "But Bernie was cocky. He wanted to see the looks on their faces, so he pulled himself up to look through the window. When he did, he wasn't quite as inconspicuous as he hoped. While the bulk of the crowd had their eyes trained forward on the mayor addressing the group, one set was looking right at him. Allister's dark brown eyes were staring him down.

"Bernie freaked out. He ran, with the other two close on his heels. They got all the way back to his house before they realized no one was following. Overactive imaginations all around.

"Through the week, Bernie couldn't forget the way Allister had looked at him. With knowing hatred. With fierce determination. To do what, Bernie didn't know, but he was convinced that Allister knew and it was only a matter of time before they were caught.

"It was that night that he first heard the noises outside his bedroom window – a thick sniffing sound, like something big was out looking for dinner. When he went to see what it was, there was nothing outside. But the next night, it happened again. And then again the next night. It happened every night around midnight: the creature would come, sniff around the bushes outside his house, and when he would go to the window to see what it was, it would run away, with only the rustling leaves behind it.

"As the days went on, Bernie's buddies tried to convince him that they were in the clear. But he refused to go into town, even though they told him there was nothing to worry about. He spent all of his free time locked up in his house and no one could get him to do anything.

"Two weeks later, Bernie and his friends were headed to prom. It was the first time Bernie had gone anywhere that wasn't school or home – they were holding it at the town hall, and it took a lot of convincing to get him to go.

"So Bernie, his two friends, and their dates drove up to the hall – this was back in the good ol' days when people were reasonable about driving ages, you see…" Will sighed. He poked the embers with his hotdog stick.

I rolled my eyes. "Will—"

"Anyways, Bernie tried to have a good time, just like his friends said he would. But the problem was, in the noise of the crowd and the blaring music and the endless faces that all ran together, all he could see everywhere he turned was that set of brown eyes looking back at him. He knew it was probably just his imagination. He knew it was stupid, but he found himself weaving through the room, searching for a bit of space, a corner to sit in where he wasn't so surrounded.

"He decided to step outside for fresh air. I think that was perhaps his greatest mistake. I know I would have been smarter than that. But we've all got to have a fatal flaw, right?" Will laughed. "The eyes were waiting for him, you see. He peered into the edge of the forest and saw the glint shining, staring him down.

"'Hello!' he shouted, 'Anyone there?' But the only reply was a wet rustling noise and a thick panting that had him backing up toward the door. 'This isn't funny, guys. I know it's you.' He didn't _really_ know it was them. Because, of course, it _wasn't_ them.

"He knew those eyes. They haunted his every nightmare. But when the eyes came closer, when the footsteps walked their way out of the forest, the eyes were not set in the familiar face of Allister Brown. They were a piece of a new nightmare, a giant brown wolf with razor teeth glistening, raised hackles, and a low, rumbling growl.

"Bernie tried to run. Who wouldn't? But he wasn't quick enough, and the moment he turned for the hall, the creature sprang. It landed on Bernie, claws first, tearing into his flesh, ripping him apart. The creature didn't eat him though. It didn't kill him. It left him there, mangled beyond the point of recognition. The creature's growl turned to a throaty laugh. As Bernie rolled to his side to call out for help, he heard one lone word come drifting from the forest…'Freak.'

"They say it's still out there, somewhere, in these same forests we camp in tonight. They say it never leaves, that it lives forever, hunting the unsuspecting high schoolers…"

***

"Next stop: thirty-three – the Quileute reservation border," the rail voice said.

I moved to stand, swallowing my nerves. "I guess that's us, eh?"

"Um." Ethan sighed. "Not quite."

"Is Bella's house further down the line?" I asked, sitting back down on the seat. The rail picked up again as no one else moved to exit.

Ethan shook his head. "No. It's not that… It's – well – she won't _be _at her house. It's kind of pointless to try her there."

We had come so far, and after all the dramatics back at his house, he wanted to try this _now_? Really? "Ethan, if you're trying to steer me away from doing this, you should just tell me now. Like I said before, I can just get someone else to—"

"Stop it," he said. "I'm not trying to mislead you. She won't be at Jake's house. She'll be at the Cullens' house." He shook his head.

"Oh. Okay."

Ethan's eyes stared blankly at the back of the seat in front of us. I wondered how he knew exactly where Bella would be. I had always figured he was barely friends with her, just enough for the relationship to be a nuisance in Ava's life. But maybe I was wrong, maybe we all were, save for Ava. Was Ethan Powell really that guy? Was he some kind of secret womanizer?

He ran a hand through his hair. It had a patch a little off to the right that stuck straight up in the air, while the rest of it was dried flat against his head from the rain. His jeans had spots on them, leftover from the storm. His shoes were barely on his feet, dirty and torn at the heel.

I chuckled to myself. _No. Not a womanizer. _

"You seem to know a lot about Bella," I said.

"Are we really going to talk about this?" he replied, snapping. "You came to me for help, remember?"

I couldn't help but smile a bit. "I know. I'm not judging. I'm just…surprised. I think you've been holding out on us a little."

He huffed. "Yeah. Well. Like you said. We're friends."

"And have you been to the Cullens' house before?" I asked.

"Once," he said. He didn't elaborate.

Which left me to wonder why.

The rail voice spoke up, catching my ear. "Next stop: thirty-two. First Beach."

For me, those last two words would never disappear into the static of regular noise. No matter where I was, or where I was headed, they would always call out to me and make me—

"You seem to know a lot about Seth," Ethan said.

The glare I gave him was automatic. It wasn't any of his business, and I couldn't help the instinctual defense. But as I stared at him I realized I was no better than he. My secrets were no better than his.

"Yes. I suppose I do."

He smiled gently. "Have you been holding out on us a little?"

"Most definitely," I replied. I turned to look out the window. "But you knew something was going on. Everyone did. The thing with Logan at the garage yesterday…"

"Are you dating him?"

I wanted to laugh, but I didn't. Everyone else thought the same. "Who? Logan? Of course not."

"What about Seth?"

I looked back at him, expecting some kind of mockery in his expression. There was none. "Am I dating _Seth_?" I had to supply the sarcasm myself. "Yeah. Right."

Ethan nodded and let my answer roll around in his head for a minute. Then he asked the question I had been waiting for him to ask all day. "What was all that with Logan? What did he want to talk about?"

Of all the people the world could offer me to open up to, Ethan Powell was the choice? "He was mad at me for what I said to Seth last time I was up there."

"What did you say?" he asked.

"This, I cannot tell you."

He smiled – this wild, obnoxious grin that belonged on a crazy person. "Why? Are you keeping secrets for him? Big mythical secrets?"

The flash of his teeth and his bravado sent a chill through me.

He _knew_.

But then he was laughing and I realized it was just a joke. I took a shuddering breath. "Ha ha. Very funny."

He stared at me. His face went pale, suddenly drawn and serious. "How long have you – um – known Seth? I mean…did you meet at the – um – in January…"

I wasn't sure how much longer I could take this particular line of dialogue. I shifted in my seat. My heart drummed out a nervous fill – improvising a beat that certainly wasn't natural. "We should talk about something else."

"No," he said. "Wait. Aubree. I have to know something. You have to answer a question for me."

I looked down; anything was better than looking at him. "I can't make any promises."

"Do you…know?"

_Do I know? I know a lot of things. _

"I mean…you know Seth. You know Logan. And I'm guessing you've met the other guys down there. Do you…"

_I know about American history. I know some things about the indigenous plant life around the Pacific Northwest. I know a word that makes Will laugh uncontrollably every time he hears it. I know Ava's middle name, though no one else does. I know…_

"Do I…what, Ethan?"

_I know about some guys who spend their free time running 'round on all fours in fur. _

He sighed. "Nothing. Never mind."

"Okay."

But the real question was…did _he_ know?

Because that would change everything.

Above most things, I wanted nothing more than someone to talk to, because the insanity of everything was just too much to handle alone. With this, I wouldn't care that Ethan Powell was the choice. To just have someone, anyone to talk to at all, it would be enough.

My eyes drifted over to him. His head leaned back against the seat. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows turned up in some kind of personal pain.

"Ethan?" I said. "You okay?"

His eyelids fluttered open. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"You look a little railsick."

"I'm not," he replied.

"Okay…"

He leaned back against the seat again. His eyes shut just as they had before. The pained expression returned.

Maybe he knew about Logan. The two of them certainly seemed like friends. I got the impression from Seth that theirs was not a secret that they just spread around town to mere acquaintances. He had warned me not to tell anyone, though I didn't really want to. I wondered how many citizens of Forks were in on the whole thing. For how long? He made it sound like he wasn't the first like him, generations gone by, wolves among men for all these years…

…inspiring scary campfire tales.

They were probably a bad thing for Forks, a small clan of killers that fed on the innocent townsfolk.

And all I wanted was to bring one back.

_Good one, Aubree. _

I was probably next on the menu. I had sent one running, and the ones left behind were none too pleased about it.

I just…didn't want to be alone in my fear.

Maybe I wasn't.

"Um, Ethan?"

His eyes snapped open. He stared at the ceiling, a bitter scowl on his face. "What?"

It was all so crazy. "Sorry. I just…"

"What, Aubree?" he pressed.

"Do you…do you…know?" I could feel my face burning.

His face went blank. He sat up straighter. "Do I know what?"

_Too crazy. Too crazy._ "Nothing. It's stupid."

We stared at each other, nothing but questions in our eyes that wouldn't ask themselves. We were certainly not going to do the work.

"You don't know. You couldn't," he muttered with a chuckle.

"I know some things," I replied. "I'm not sure we're talking about the same thing though. I don't see how we could be."

The chuckle died away. "Because it's too bizarre?"

"It's ludicrous." I nodded. "Because it's too…unbelievable?"

He joined in the nodding. We leaned toward each other. "Unreal. Impossible."

My voice hushed, falling into the drama of the conversation. "And when they told you, you thought they were all crazy?"

"I thought _I _was crazy," he said, also whispering. "But I saw it. With my own eyes. I saw her, him, them…I saw them…"

_He _saw_ them? "_Seth? Did you see Seth turn into a…?"

"No," he replied. "Never Seth. I just met him at the Cullens' house."

"Oh," I said, trying to figure out how he was connected to it all. "But you knew about…"

He nodded again. "Him. And Logan. And Trip. And Jonah. And Jake…"

"Jake?" I asked. "Bella's brother? Does that mean she's a…?" I couldn't get the word out to save my life. I wasn't going to be the first one to say it aloud and make it real.

"No. She's the other kind."

There were others? "Other ones?"

"Never mind." He turned away, crossing his arms. "We shouldn't be talking about this."

"Please," I said, pleading. "Talk to me about this. I don't think I can keep it in anymore. I…need someone to tell me I'm not going crazy. And that I'm still safe at home. And that they're not going to come for me."

"Aubree, they're not going to hurt you. They're not _bad._"

The small measure of comfort his words brought were almost enough. Almost. "But they're…I mean how can they be good?"

"They just are. Some things in this world still have yet to be discovered. I think they prefer it that way. I can't imagine it would be very helpful for people to know about them. I can't imagine people would understand. I mean, do you?"

It was as simple as that? It couldn't be. "Oh." But with the way I had reacted…with what _I _had assumed about him, and I was supposed to be his friend…"Yeah. I guess…I guess you're right. He told me that I could leave and he would understand. He would leave me alone."

Ethan nodded. "So you have two choices then. You can get off the rail at the next stop and…forget about all of this. Walk away. It never happened. You were never here. Go on with your life and let it fade away as a bad dream should.

"Or you can stay on. You can come with me and we can try to see if we're at all helpful to them. But you have to accept it. You have to be okay with it. Because I learned the hard way that if you let it, it will overwhelm you. And it's not a pretty picture. Believe me."

He was right.

"Yeah," I said. "Okay."

The rail voice spoke. "Next stop: twelve. Olympic National Park."

I held my breath as the machine came to a stop. The doors whooshed open. A few people at the front of the rail grabbed their belongings and walked around to the exit. As the last footsteps went from the stair to the gravel and the door whooshed closed, I realized there was no way I could get off that rail. I had already made this particular decision a long time ago.

The day I woke up in the arms of a wolf.

And felt safer for it.

"Welcome to Forks," Ethan said. "I hope you fare better than I."

* * *

**Thoughts? Questions? Comments? **


	12. Chapter 12

**a/n: Hello friends. Sorry I'm taking so long on this. Life is busy; you get the bad end of that stick. :(**

**Anyhow, thanks go out to the lovely Crysross for being awesome and betaing better than anyone ever. She is a goddess. Seriously. And to the vonderful Bririzzle, whom I hold most dear for helping me in my bizarre hours of need.**

**Thank you to the [t20s] gals for their marvelous support. This one's for you dahlings, fo sho.**

**The song for this chapter is _Melectric _by Ramona Falls. Go check it out. There's a link on my profile.**

**Today I am Team Cullen.

* * *

**

Part 12

An Outsider's Eyes

The Cullens.

As a group, they were untouchable. Always had been. They weren't really students as much as the embodiment of everyone's ideal – whether it was what you loved most or hated most, it didn't matter. They were your hopes and dreams; they were your darkest nightmares. They were all of these things, wrapped in mysteries and beauty and set before the population of Forks High for all the masses to stand and stare.

They were in no way _real. _

In all honesty, I had always been a little afraid of them. Intimidated by the girls, of course, because who wouldn't be? Just standing close to them was enough. With their flawless hair, perfect bodies. They had alabaster skin that reflected the fluorescents in the bathroom a weird way, like a suppressed glow – it was enough to take anyone's ego down a couple notches. They looked like angels.

Or something.

Then there were the guys. Too many girls had walked our hallowed halls, swooning their way down the linoleum because of those three. They had eyes that could set you to melting if they so chose. I tried not to look at them if I could help it. I certainly had never spoken to any of them.

That was, until this moment:

"Hey there, don't think we've met really. I'm Emmett."

I sat in the middle seat in the back of his car, my heart hammering along. "I'm Aubree. Um…I think we're in history together."

Don't get me wrong; I held no real feelings for any of them. There was just a certain undeniable magnetism that they all had that concurrently set my tongue and stomach to knots. And I consider myself pretty well spoken.

Ethan Powell seemed unaffected by such things. He sat up front, comfy as could be. Like he'd been there before. Like they were old pals.

"Sure. I remember," Emmett said. "And Seth has talked a lot about you."

"He . . . talks about me?"

"Of course," he replied, as if it were old news. I should have known. "Now . . . hold on. I'm told I drive a little fast."

This was an understatement.

I opened my mouth to ask him what Seth said about me – when and why, how and where – just as he hit the gas. My back slammed against the seat and all the air I had came out in a terrified gasp.

Emmett continued, talking to Ethan about things I didn't understand. "Then again, maybe Edward's wrong. Maybe it's a good idea to let you guys come here…"

Their house was enormous and beautiful. It was an old white mansion, pristine, with a wraparound porch and old bowing trees to frame it – something out of a fairy tale. Emmett took the car around to park it just in front of the stairs.

"Maybe you can help us," he said with a sigh. He shut off the car. "God knows we need it."

Ethan turned into a zombie. He nodded absently and went through the motions of getting out of the car. I followed behind him, because he was the only thing I had left of my world to hold onto. I was venturing into unknown waters, and as silly as it seemed, I needed him to be my life vest.

Emmett took the stairs two at a time and held the front door open for us. We walked a little slower behind him. Ethan paused just before the threshold, staring blankly at the corner of the doorway.

"You comin', man?" Emmett asked.

Ethan shook his head. "Um. Yeah. Right."

I took a deep breath and we stepped inside.

From the entryway, I could hear a conversation just ahead of us. I looked up to see a wide living room, stocked with old-fashioned furniture, every seat occupied. There were two heads facing away from us on the couch. Emmett's girlfriend sat across from them in an ornate wooden chair. On the other sofa sat the littlest girl, Alice, next to one person who was most certainly not going to be happy to see me.

Logan.

I thought they had gone to look for Seth, but I guess they needed help just like I did.

He wasn't alone, of course. The others stood in the corner a few yards away from the main group. All of them had new outfits on, and I wondered where the clothes had come from. I wanted to drum up some pride for knowing that the Cullens were the right people to talk to, but I was too afraid to pat myself on the back.

"Did he say _anything_ that would make you think he had planned this?" I recognized Edward's voice. He stood next to the sofa and I realized that the figure sitting beside him must have been Bella.

"No. Nothing like that. Like I said, he was going to check on her…" Logan replied. "But I swear he wasn't even thinking about leaving. Well, not really…"

They were talking about Seth.

And some girl.

I was kind of jealous.

Dr. Cullen stood at the head of the group. I had never seen him out of his lab coat before. He wore slacks and a green sweater. "Wait. Now we must be very clear on this, Logan," he said. "Can you remember exactly what he was thinking? See what you can remember up until you left…"

Logan closed his eyes. "Um. Something on the order of how I screwed things up for him. Which I resented, of course. And then something like, 'What part of "don't talk about werewolves" do you not understand?'"

The tall, lanky one spoke up from the corner – Jonah. "He also said something about trying to leave her alone. And then something about leaving him alone. 'Get out of my head!' I think. And that's what turned us back."

Logan nodded. "We didn't hear past that because we were all hitching rides home from the reaches. Naked, I might add."

"We walked," Trip said. "Wasn't so bad."

"But do you really think he meant it?" Rosalie asked. "That he meant he was leaving?"

"I don't know." Logan sighed. "I just…I don't know."

I understood the part about Seth. About how he had planned on leaving, or that maybe they thought he had, but the rest of the conversation was a wash of confusion. Why would Logan know what Seth was thinking?

Was Logan a mind reader?

_No._

_No, no, no . . . it's impossible. _

A familiar argument.

"What are they talking about?" I whispered to Ethan. He seemed to be the go-to guy for information these days.

The whisper was not quiet enough. Every set of eyes turned our way, including Logan's, who glared at me, his mouth pulling down in a deep scowl.

"What is she doing here?" he asked.

Part of me wanted to run at the expression. My heart pounded in my chest and I kept reassuring myself that what Ethan had said was true: they were good; they wouldn't hurt me.

Logan stood up. His hands were fists at his sides.

"I just wanted to help," I said.

From the corner, Jonah's low voice joined in. "Help. Right."

Ethan tried to shield me from them, but there was no way I could let him fight my battles for me. They wouldn't hurt me. Not with all the other people in the room.

_. . . would they? _

"Listen, I'm sorry." I walked forward, letting go of Ethan's sweater that I didn't realize I had been holding. As he fell behind the range of my peripheral vision, I took a deep breath. "I just . . . I want to fix things."

Logan pointed at me. "This is your fault. If it wasn't for you he would have stayed. He wouldn't have gone off to God knows where for God knows how long."

"Don't you think I know that?" I did my best to hold Logan's stare, to remain strong. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have . . .I wish I could just take it back and do it better. I should have . . ." The tears that wanted out took hold of my throat; I had to swallow to speak again. "Please, Logan. Help me fix this."

Jonah's voice came from the corner again. "This isn't really something you can help with," he said. "Damn prejudice."

For the first time since he realized I was standing there, Logan looked elsewhere. His head snapped around to Jonah. "Shut up. You're really one to talk."

"You can't really mean to tell me that—"

"I said SHUT UP!" Logan shouted.

The room fell silent. Logan and Jonah turned their eyes back to me, and I couldn't help but look down at my feet.

_Yes, you are being _very _helpful, Aubree. _

I studied my shoes. They were light blue waterproof slip-ons, my favorite pair. After a moment, though I heard no footsteps, a voice sounded in front of me.

"Aubree, right?"

I looked up to see Mrs. Cullen standing in front of me. Even she had flawless features. I had seen her from afar before, but never as close as this. I knew the family was all adopted, but there was something similar about the way she looked at me. Something in her eyes that I couldn't quite put my finger on . . .

"And Ethan, it's nice to finally meet you," she said. "I'm Esme."

Ethan nodded. He stood like a soldier at attention. "Nice to meet you, too."

She turned her eyes back to me – golden, shining, compassionate. "I want to make sure you know that you are welcome here with us, but we fear that it's not really safe for you. We don't think you _couldn't_ help." Her voice softened. "It's more a matter of respecting Seth's wishes at this point. We're not sure he would want you involved in all of this. Do you understand?"

None of it made any sense, and the longer I thought about it, the more I wondered why _we_ were the center of attention. Why didn't the conversation continue in the living room? Why were they all watching and waiting for us?

"No…" I said in a broken voice. I swallowed. "I mean, what does it matter? Why does he even care?"

"Seth doesn't want you to get hurt, that's all," Mrs. Cullen said. She stepped closer and put a hand on my arm. "And I think he just wants to make sure you don't have to face anything you're not ready for."

The way she said it, it sounded like she had spoken with him about this very topic at some point. But why would Seth talk to any of them about me? Why would anyone ever assume I would have to be "ready for" something like this?

"Ready or not, it's here," I replied. "And I don't care what his wishes might or might not be. I have to do something. He saved my life. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. I can't just return the favor by making him abandon his life here. If it's my fault, I want to talk to him. I want to explain to him that I never meant I wanted him _gone_ . . ."

Mrs. Cullen nodded, a gentle movement. "Alright then. Why don't you come have a seat?"

Ethan sighed. "Um…right. C'mon, Aubree." He led me around to take Logan's spot on the couch. Logan sat on the floor, grumbling.

As I got myself situated, the whole room seemed to hold their breath. Part of me wanted to grip Ethan's sweater like a security blanket again, but I smothered the urge by tucking my hands in my lap.

Alice leaned over and put her hand on my shoulder. "It'll be okay. Try not to worry about it too much." Her skin was cold, even through my shirt and sweater.

"Do you know this for sure, Alice?" Ethan asked, his voice thick.

"No. But I have hope," she replied with a weak smile. "Sometimes even we have to rely on that."

"Where were we?" Dr. Cullen asked. All heads turned to look at him again. "Logan, when you got home, how long was it before you realized he was gone?"

"Not too long before we came over here," Logan replied. "I mean we all went home after he told us to leave him alone. Went to bed. This morning we went down there to check in around…noon I'd say. But he wasn't home. We didn't think anything of it, actually. Figured he was over at—"

Edward cut him off. "Right. And the note?"

_There was a note? _

"Trip found it," Logan said. "Half tucked under the door. Maybe it fell."

Dr. Cullen looked at me. Maybe he was just trying to keep me entertained. Make me feel useful. "Aubree," he said, "did Seth come by your house at all? Did you talk to him last night or this morning?"

I shook my head. "No. I didn't see him. I didn't even know he was leaving. I didn't know anything until I went over there this afternoon."

_Thus endeth any help Aubree Parson can give. Good job. _

Dr. Cullen turned back to Logan. "And he hasn't mentioned anything about Jacob recently?"

And again, Logan said something that had me wondering what exactly werewolves could do, outside of being wolves some of the time. "No more than our usual conversation. Errant thoughts. Nothing like he knew where he went. Nothing like he was going after him."

_Logan, can you hear me? _

_So what if you can hear me? So what. It's not like I think anything worth railing on. _

_Just…leave me alone. Listen to someone else for a while, okay? _

He didn't acknowledge any of it. Maybe he was trying to tune me out. Maybe he was respecting my requests.

The worst part of it all was that it made so much sense. No wonder Logan hated me so. I wasn't just the annoying girl who ran his friend into the ground with her hurtful reaction to his deepest secrets. I was also the girl who silently claimed some kind of ownership to him, who dangled at his every word like a stupid idiot with a crush. And he knew just how crazy I had thought they all were. He heard it directly from my head. No wonder he despised me. No wonder they all did.

I thought back to the scene in the garage from the day before. It made a lot more sense in retrospect.

"_I just—" Logan broke off, and swallowed. "He's not crazy. I know you think he's crazy, but he's not."_

"_What do you know about it?" I asked. "You weren't there. You don't know what he said."_

"_I know exactly what he said."_

"_How?" I demanded._

"_It doesn't matter. I just do."_

Because he didn't have to be there. He had seen it in my head. Or Seth's head, maybe.

I came back to the present, trying to pay attention to the conversation. They were working through the timeline of Seth's absence, trying to find out when exactly he had left. But I was more curious about the reason.

_But why, Logan? _"You said something about a note?" I asked. "He left a note behind?"

"Yeah," Logan said. He reached up to the coffee table where a wrinkled paper sat. He read aloud:

"_Brothers_," he said.

"_I know this is bad timing, and I'm sorry to leave you leaderless in a time like this. But you won't be alone for long. I will return. Just let me take care of this first. I have to make things right again." _

"Make things right?" I asked. "What does that mean?" _What is he trying to fix? _

"You figure it out," Logan said. "We're done speculating. It doesn't really matter at this point, does it?"

_Of course it matters. _"Well, if you don't know _why_ he left, I don't see how you can figure out where he went."

"She's right," Edward said. "And Logan, what you're thinking doesn't make sense. There is no _cure. _Believe me. I looked."

Were they _all_ mind readers? Maybe Logan just had the ability to project his thoughts to others, as well. Maybe he was having a silent conversation with everyone else but me…

"…so we find Seth and we find Jake," Logan said.

"Nice try," Jonah said, "but Seth didn't mention anything about Jake. It has nothing to do with him."

"He didn't have to," Bella said. "What else would he try to fix?"

I was certainly out of the loop on something.

Logan didn't seem to like her train of thought. "Really, Bella?"

"No," Bella replied. "I still don't think leaving would solve that."

I looked up at Ethan. He seemed unperturbed by it all. Perhaps "dumbstruck" is a better word.

The group consensus was that a couple of the Cullens should go down to Seth's house to search out any clues left behind as to where he had gone. Logan was going along with them, and as such, he began to peel off his shoes and socks. I guess he didn't want to ruin another outfit. Jasper and Emmett waited by the front door. Logan took off his shirt and dropped it in the growing pile of clothing.

_This is an awful big group to undress in front of. _

Logan seemed to catch the hint, because he stood up, still in the shorts, and said, "Uh…I'll do the rest on the way." He and Alice walked over to meet the guys at the door.

"Be careful," Dr. Cullen said. "Just in case. And call us if you find anything."

_Just in case what? _

"Will do," Emmett replied. He smiled at Ethan. "You gonna be okay, kiddo? You promise you won't explode or anything after I leave? Because I'd hate to miss that."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine. Thanks for the concern."

Emmett chuckled as they walked outside. The silence that followed seemed to fuel the nerves inside of me. Without the distraction that the group's conference provided and the chance to worry about Logan's mind reading, I started to grow anxious again. My insides felt like a jumbled mess, fluttering and nausea all wound together. I wanted nothing more than something to think about. Something other than…

_What if I never see him again? What if they don't find anything? What if I never know what happened? What if I never get to tell him… _

"Ethan?" Edward said.

I looked up at the kid, and he was staring at the Newwood, his eyes darting back and forth between things I could not see.

"Ethan?" Edward said again.

It didn't seem to do anything.

I tapped Ethan on the arm. "Ethan? Are you listening? Edward is trying to talk to you."

"Sorry," Ethan replied, looking back up at Edward. "What?"

"Who is Jeremy?"

Ethan wiped his eyes with his hand. "Oh God. Right. Sorry. I . . . um . . . how do I do this?"

"Try starting at the beginning," Edward said. He absently brushed a hand across Bella's hair.

"Jeremy is this guy who comes into the shop sometimes. And I didn't really think too much about him, he's just a nice guy that I hang out with sometimes. But the other day I was talking to Logan and he was explaining the…wolf stuff."

Ethan coughed. I shifted in my seat.

The topic didn't seem to bother anyone else. "Yes? And?" Edward asked.

"And I just thought he seemed to kind of fit the bill," Ethan said. "He said he lives down on the rez and goes to school there. A senior. And, well, maybe I'm stereotyping, but he's huge. And…and…"

Ethan's train of thought took a hard turn and jumped the tracks. He stared across the room at the wall next to the front door.

"Ethan. She's probably fine," Edward said. "Please. What else can you tell us about Jeremy?"

_He's worrying about the girl. Even Edward can tell. _

I kinda felt bad for the guy.

"Sorry," Ethan replied. "He was supposed to meet me after work one day, to get some food at the diner, you know? But he never showed. I just figured he ditched and had something better to do, but now I wonder… I mean he hasn't been back to the shop since. And he used to come by pretty regularly. Haven't seen him around town at all either."

"Do you know who he is, Edward?" Bella asked.

"Not familiar to me, but maybe…" Edward looked at the two left in the corner. Why were they standing there, anyway? "Trip, Jonah, have you heard of anyone named Jeremy?"

Trip took a step forward and Jonah put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Not so close," Jonah said.

"Don't be ridiculous," Trip replied. "They're not going to hurt me."

_How could they hurt him? _

It sounded a little bit like Jonah was _scared_ of the Cullens. Which was completely absurd. How could anyone scare _him_?

Trip walked around to take the vacant space on the couch next to me. He was not as little as the previous occupant, however, and his knees knocked against the coffee table. "I don't know a Jeremy here. Not a senior anyway. There's a kid that lives up north, his brother dated Logan's sister a couple years back. He's little, though."

"Logan mentioned that to me when I asked him about it," Ethan said.

"When did this happen, Ethan?" Dr. Cullen asked. "When were you supposed to meet him?"

"Um…" Ethan replied. "Aunt Madison gave me the message the same day Bella and Edward came over to my house. The day they didn't kill me."

_The day they…_

_What?_

Must have been an inside joke.

Edward chuckled. "I should have said something to Bella about that. Sorry to let you go on thinking…"

Yeah. Hilarious.

He was just their bestest bud ever, wasn't he? If only Will knew.

"It's okay. Water under the bridge," Ethan said. "I already yelled at Bella for it."

"So that was Monday then," Bella said. "You were meeting him that day?"

"No. I went to meet him the next day after work. He was the friend I mentioned that I had to go see. He was the reason I didn't come here."

"Definitely holding out on us," I mumbled.

Ethan gave a little smile in return as if to say, _I'm sorry. _"What can I say? I'm a keeper of vast secrets."

"I'm beginning to understand that."

The confusing conversation began to pick up pace. "So he must have been there on Monday to tell your Aunt Madison to give you the message," Bella said. "Which means he disappeared some time after Monday…afternoon?"

"I guess so," Ethan replied with a shrug. "I didn't ask what time he stopped by."

"I think we're all on agreed on that," Edward said, looking at Dr. Cullen. "We still don't know what he was here for though. Though . . .this disproves his disappearance. Or at least it didn't happen when Ethan thinks it did."

I had no idea how he had gotten there from what Ethan said. He sounded insane. I wouldn't blame him if he were a little bit gone. But I had thought that about a lot of people and had been proven wrong in the most bizarre ways.

"What?" Ethan asked.

"We had a visitor on Friday," Edward said. "A wolf from outside the pack. He wouldn't change to talk to them; he just tried to get around them to get somewhere on the reservation. I went down to help them sort it out, see what he wanted, but he left before I got there. He must have heard me coming. Or perhaps it was my scent that chased him away."

_Why would a werewolf be afraid of a person? Did he wear some special cologne or something? _

"You think it was Jeremy?" Ethan asked.

"It makes sense," Bella said. "But how is it connected?"

Edward shook his head. "I'm not sure it is. I mean, yes, it's bizarre that he's not around town anymore. But obviously if he was here just two days ago…"

"Right," Ethan said. He shifted his weight and put his hands in his pockets.

"Go ahead, Ethan," Edward said, possibly sensing his anxiety to get back to the girl. "Thank you for the information."

"Aubree?" Ethan said, looking down at me. "I really want to make sure to catch Jules before she goes. Can we . . .?"

They were still waiting for information from the group that had gone with Logan. I was more interested in hearing what they found out. There was very little that would make me leave that house. Ethan's need to catch up with the lake girl was not very important to me in the moment.

"I'm not leaving," I said. "And I'm also not a child. I don't need your help to get home, thank you very much."

"Um, okay. I guess I'll be off. Aubree, I'll see you at school tomorrow?"

"Sure. Whatever." I looked off to the back of the room. The wall had been replaced with a long window that ran from the floor to the ceiling. I could see the slope of grass that ran down to the edge of the forest, the dimming gray sky.

Ethan said his goodbyes and started to head out. I heard his footsteps in the background as he walked around the couch. After only a couple steps, he stopped.

"Wait," Ethan said. "Can I see the note for a second?"

"Of course," Edward replied.

Edward stared at Ethan as Ethan stared at the note. I wasn't sure what either of them found so fascinating about it. It was vague almost to the point of being meaningless.

"What?" Edward prompted.

"I . . .well . . ." Ethan stammered as he went over the words on the little paper again. "Seth didn't write this. Jeremy did."

_What? _

"How can you be sure?" Bella asked.

I stood up and shuffled around to peek over his shoulder, to try to make out the words myself. Trip followed. He might have been the smallest one of them, but he was still taller than I was, and he loomed behind me quite well. Pretty soon the rest of the room, save for Edward's cousin and Jonah in the corner, made a tight circle around Ethan and the note.

"The message Aunt Madison gave me," Ethan said. "It was a note. And it looked just like this."

My eyes focused on one line: _I'm sorry to leave you leaderless in a time like this. _Things started to fall into place.

Seth didn't _leave. _I didn't make him abandon his life. I didn't make him do anything.

Someone else did.

I should have been relieved.

I wasn't.

"Why would he do this?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Who is this guy? Does this mean he . . .he . . .took Seth?"

No one answered my question. Not in so many words, at least. On the sofa, Edward's cousin hugged her knees tight against her chest and began to sob quietly. Bella and Rosalie tried to comfort her, but nothing they did seemed to help.

"Shh," Rosalie said. "I'm sure it's going to be fine. Shh . . ."

_Why would anyone kidnap Seth? _

_Or, really,_ how _would anyone kidnap Seth? _

_This is impossible. _

It was one of those moments in life when the outside world impinges on one's internal monologue more than it should. See, we all do this; we all create this idea in our head that the horrible things that go on could never happen to us. Disaster, murder, disease – these things are problems that affect _other_ people. I had always been very good at being appropriately sad for the victim, or angry, or whatever was called for, but I still lived in the happy idea that none of it would ever happen to me and mine.

It was someone else's turn to say, "That's a shame."

Wasn't it?

I stared with unfocused eyes as Edward asked Ethan question after question, trying to figure out where the Jeremy guy could have taken Seth, where he lived, why, when, how, what…

_What am I doing here? _

Edward's cousin was inconsolable, a shivering mess of a girl. Her curls hung over her face, limp, slightly oily at the roots. Her right hand gripped her left tight enough to lose color.

_What kind of claim do I have to their pain? _

_None, really. _

"Okay, good. What else did he say? What else did he buy?" a blurry Edward asked.

The blurry Ethan sighed. "Um. Carabiners. Food packets. He bought a lot of those. Camping supplies."

The reality of the situation was that I belonged at home at the dinner table with Mom and Dad. I belonged with Ava. With Will.

I was an intruder.

Ethan continued. ". . . he just started complaining about Forks and how it was such a horrible place to live and people always came _back_ . . ."

And yet there was the undeniable feeling that I needed to see him. That I had to find a way to save Seth. That I should be the one who—

That he was _mine. _

The room was silent, staring at Ethan, waiting for . . .something.

I opened my mouth. I didn't know what I was going to say, but I was going to say something. I needed to ask a question. Something was bugging me. Something about what Emmett had said in the car—

I didn't get a chance. Edward cut off the train of thought with two words that changed everything.

"Hunger Mountain."

And with them, Dr. Cullen nodded and . . . disappeared. There is no other word for it.

Now, usually in my tellings of tales I often refer back to my childhood – relate the now with the then. But I can tell you with complete certainty that _nothing_ in my entire life was ever like this moment. Nothing. I stared at the empty space Dr. Cullen's body once occupied and looked off to where I thought he might have gone. My eyes had registered motion of some kind, but it was too fast to actually see.

"Whoa," I said. "What…?"

"There's no time," Bella said. "I'm sorry, Aubree. Ask Ethan when we're gone. He'll straighten it all out."

I continued to study the empty space. The carpet was very clean. I sank back down to the couch.

Edward moved to talk to his cousin. He murmured something to her that I could not hear, but whatever it was, it made her very angry.

"DON'T PATRONIZE ME!" She shouted. They all fell silent as she looked up at him, her brown eyes shining with fresh tears, intense, unblinking. "I _will_ go. There is no way I will stay behind while the whole family goes off to look for _my husband_. This is my fault."

Rosalie shook her head. "It's _not_ your fault, Renesmee."

"She's right," Bella said. "Please, don't think that you are responsible. You know Jake—"

"No," Edward's cousin said, cutting them off. She moved to stand, pulling her body from the comforting arms of her family. "Don't try to make me feel better. I don't want to feel better. I owe him this. Even if he's already…even if we're too _late."_

_Too late? For…_

_Oh God._

"I will go," she continued. "This is not your decision. I am not a child."

A very small part of me registered the fact that there was something backwards about the conversation they were having – the girls still in high school trying to reassure and console the adult. But the bigger concern in my mind was too loud to ignore.

_What if we're too late? _

There are no words to describe the feeling that followed. All I knew was it was Wrong – the kind that deserved capital letters. Not Allowed. Not Supposed To Happen. Seth was a good person. People like him didn't deserve things like this.

But it was a very real possibility.

"Alright," Bella said. "We should go."

"What about the rest of them?" Ethan asked. "Aren't you going to wait for them to come back from Seth's house?"

"They're already waiting in the garage," Bella replied.

I pulled myself to stand, not wanting to be left behind. With their speed, they could leave me behind in a literal blink of my eye. "I want to come along too. I need to be there when—"

"No," Edward said. "I'm sorry, Aubree. You are still a minor, and not…one of us. We're a little more suited to the task. And I'm certain Seth wouldn't approve. You are welcome to wait here though, until we return."

"But I—"

He didn't wait to hear the end of the argument. For a split second he looked at me with sympathy, and I thought maybe he understood enough that he might say something, do something, let me…but no, he ran out of the room, faster than even the doctor had. Rosalie, Bella, and the cousin followed.

It was pointless, but I found myself chasing after them. Engines roared to life outside. I could hear tires squealing against cement. I pulled the door open just in time to see three cars and three motorcycles speed away down the dirt driveway. They disappeared into the forest.

I had no time to crumble. No time to go to pieces.

I whipped around. Ethan sat on the couch with his head in his hands. Lucky bastard.

"Ethan," I said, calling him back to the real world. "You know how to drive, right?"

Because I refused to stay behind. No matter what happened, I would witness it. I might not be very much _help, _but I could not stand by and pretend it didn't matter. I had to be honest with myself. I had to be there.

After a moment of thinking it over, he sat up a little straighter.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

* * *

**Thoughts? Questions? Signed copies of **_**The Name of the Wind? **_


	13. Chapter 13

Part 13

Of Who We Will Become

We stole a car – a new experience for me, to be sure, but I wasn't really concerned with the repercussions. I wasn't even sure the thing would run until Ethan hit the gas and we sped out of the garage so fast I thought I might be sick.

Ethan didn't speak for the first ten minutes of our drive. It was probably a good thing – it allowed me time to think things over, to attempt to clear my head a bit, and it also reassured me that he was concentrating on learning how to operate the ancient vehicle and not kill us both in doing so. In our silence, the forest blurred past my window and I thought back to that moment when Dr. Cullen vanished. Bella's words echoed behind the image, _"Ask Ethan when we're gone. He'll straighten it all out."_

There was something ominous about the way she worded it.

I would like to say that this was the only thing I thought about, but it wasn't.

Slipping between my own theories and wonderments about the Cullen family, all the regrets I had about how I had treated Seth came back to haunt me. They wove between every question I asked myself, sewing my mind shut with the pain of knowing I might never see him again, that I might miss a chance to tell him how I felt…

And then I wondered: if he did make it out okay, would I really want him to know? So I had a schoolgirl crush, so what? Why should he care? I could almost hear his reply, thick and patronizing, "That's…nice, Aubree. Thanks?"

Ethan's voice brought me around, his hand moved to his ear. "Call Justin Halifax."

I kept my eyes outside, offering him the impression of privacy. I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my head against the glass.

"I know," he said. "I am well aware that I'm most likely blacklisted. I don't blame her."

What would hurt more: living alone without ever telling Seth anything? Or telling him, only to have him ask me to leave him alone?

"I…can't say. If she wants to tell you, that's fine."

They both seemed equally painful.

But if he…died…what then?

"Listen, I need you to do me just one last favor."

_One _last_ favor?_ I couldn't help but eavesdrop; those three words pulled at me like a was the expert, did this mean he thought _we_ weren't going to make it out of this whole thing alive?

Did it matter?

_Maybe. _

"No," he said. "I just mean…I know that it isn't fair for you to have to go between the two of us. And I surrender the choice. Be _her_ friend, please." He sighed. "And so I have one last favor to ask, as a friend."

_Oh. _

Still.

_Maybe? _What the hell was wrong with me?

"When she gets into town, will you call me and let me know she made it okay? If I don't answer, just leave a message. I just…I have to know she got home safe, okay?"

On the one hand, I understood where the lake girl was coming from, but on the other… Ethan was living my nightmare. But he was still living.

_I wonder if he would mind if I asked how he coped._

_I wonder if she knows he loves her. _

_Loves? _

_Yes. Loves. _

Just because they were two kids, and just because they were still in high school, it didn't mean he didn't love her. And it didn't make it any less important. Maybe it's stupid, but in this tiny fraction of a moment, I understood. The lake girl – Jules – she _mattered_. She was important because of this sacrifice. Because Ethan's pain meant she was worth holding on to, worth wondering if he was going to regret the day he tried to _save someone's life_.

And the fact that he went to save a life at all – Seth mattered. They all did. We went to help because every one of them was important. Even if they were something _else_. Even if after this day we never spoke again, and went our merry way dutifully ignoring each other. It would never change the fact that they counted. To us.

And, once upon a time, someone saved my life. Because _I_ was important.

To him.

Oh, the hope. Suffocating, dangerous hope.

I attempted a casual glance at Ethan – not that he cared, he didn't really see anything past the concrete rolling under us. He wrapped up his conversation, a new look of determination in his eyes as he hung up the phone and gripped the wheel.

"Does it ever get easier?" I asked. The question came out before I could stop myself, despite the fact that talking relationship issues with Ethan Powell was probably the last thing I ever thought I would want to do.

"What's that?" he asked.

But I couldn't gather the courage to actually form the words. He looked at me for a moment and then turned back to the road, waiting.

"Living with all this," I finally said. "I know Bella said you would answer my questions, but the honest truth is…I'm not really sure I want to ask them. I'm having a hard enough time coping with what I do know."

It was true enough, I guess.

Ethan nodded. "I had a moment where I…flipped out a little. Or maybe it was more than one." He chuckled. "But it's settling now. I'm getting better at it, I think. It's just a matter of time, and balance. And getting over it because you have to. The other option is to go insane, and I'm pretty sure that's not much fun.

"You'll live," he said. "You're stronger than I am, that's for sure."

I couldn't help but smile. "Damn straight." The only thing I could do was prepare myself to help in whatever way I could. Whatever dragons we were about to face, whatever world we had tangled ourselves into, I needed to be ready. Ethan was right. I _was_ stronger. I learned that lesson long ago. How dare I forget.

"Can I borrow your phone?" I asked. Ethan unhooked it from his ear and passed it over to me. I hit the button on the side and asked for Will.

After a half of a ring, he answered. "Are you almost here yet?"

"No. And it is double favor time."

"Oh?" Somewhere in the background, a keyboard clicked. I could practically see him sitting in his ridiculous neon green foam chair with his notebook on his lap. "What kind of favors are we talking about?"

"The kind where I'm busy and I need you to cover for me. If Ava or my mom asks, I'm at your place. If anyone calls, I'm spending the night, okay?"

"Are you aware of how frantic you sound right now? What the hell is going on?"

"I—" I swallowed. "I can't really talk about it."

"Secrets? In Forks? And I don't get to play?"

"Favor number two is that you don't ask any questions."

He took a moment to think it over. "Fine. But let the record show that this favor was honored, and you are no fun right now."

"Both duly noted." I sighed. "Thank you."

"You sound like I just offered a kidney. Are you okay, Gracie?"

"I'm fine."_ Best friend a girl could ask for. _

"Right. Fine." And bless his heart, his voice cracked a little bit as he said, "Well, call me when you get home so I know you're okay, promise?"

"I promise. Got to go." _I love you, Will Yorkie. You know that?_

"Be safe," he said. "Whatever it is you're up to."

"Will do." After I hung up, I handed the phone back to Ethan. "This is a burden."

Ethan tucked the phone into his pocket. "Yeah. I'm so sorry you had to get wrapped up in it."

"It's not your fault, Ethan. In fact, I feel a little like I'm dragging you along with me. But I'm not going to apologize for that." It was time. I needed to prepare myself for everything. For anything. "Alright then. Fill me in. I'd like to be a member of the Vast Secrets Club."

He didn't say anything at first. He stared at the road ahead of us and blinked. His mouth opened and closed like a fish.

I waited.

"Well…um."

"You can be blunt, Ethan. I'm okay with that. Just spit it out."

He looked over at me for a second and blushed. "Vampires?"

Was _he _asking _me?_ No. Probably not.

He coughed. "The Cullens, I mean. And…and Bella, too."

"Right." It made sense. Werewolves and vampires went hand-in-hand. I should have guessed.

I really wanted to laugh.

It was all so completely ridiculous. Bella Black was a vampire? Who drank blood? Little Alice Cullen hunted _people_? I mean sure, they were _something. _But…vampires? There's no such thing.

All I could picture was Edward Cullen in a red-lined cape with his hair slicked back. The giggle was fighting its way out.

"Have you gone insane yet?" He asked.

"I don't think so." The laugh finally won. "It's not…well, is it weird if I say I still don't really believe it?"

"Nah, I can understand that."

"I mean, I know they run really fast and all…but…maybe it's just still a word to me. It's not really real, you know?"

"I know."

I smiled. "But don't lose hope. I might still go crazy. I have a lot of time ahead of me for that."

…

Ava always had a plan. At five, she was going to be a ballerina. We both took classes when we were little – I took them for granted, she took them seriously. This was a definite career option as far as she was concerned. Until she found out that Grandma Parson used to work at the bar in town when she was younger – then she insisted on mixing people "cocktails" every chance she got. Mostly it was mud-water. Will was the only one who didn't mind trying it.

At ten, she decided she was going to be a poet. She wrote all the time in a little blue journal that she carried around with her. Sometimes she recited the poems to me – little rhyming verses about trees or butterflies or flowers and bumblebees. That dream lasted a year. Then Will convinced her that she had to write about dramatic things to be successful, and that her life had no drama. He was right about the latter, at least.

The latest, well, it's a little less of a career plan as much as a life plan.

Ethan. He was the plan.

She might not have said as much, but I knew, in those moments when she would sigh wistfully, or angst over his latest foible, that she had long distant ideas of where they would end up. College together, perhaps? Or a family after? I bet if I confiscated her notebook, I'd find his name and hers swallowed by swarms of hearts.

I often derided her swooning. I definitely did my best to ignore her plans. I kind of feel bad for that now.

Sure, she was only in high school and it was stupid to think these things lasted, but I now admire her tenacity. Maybe we were all destined for heartbreak. At least she _tried. _

…

Our conversation dissolved as we wound uphill towards Hunger Mountain. There were no more directions to give, only one road in and one road out. I kept looking ahead for signs of life, my eyes tracing through the shadows and fog.

I'd like to say I spent that last leg of our drive with my chin up and a devil-may-care smile. But with the road running out, and the altitude setting my ears to popping, all I could wonder was, _What is he doing right now? Is he okay? _It was like the opposite of Christmas Eve, anxiety so strong it was painful. I wanted to _be_ there already. I also wanted to never get there.

And then the tracks scarring the little dirt road ahead of us made everything real again.

"Turn up here," I said, the adrenaline kicking into overdrive. "We should be getting close."

Ethan looked at the dashboard. "Window down." Nothing happened. "Window?" He tried pushing buttons on the panel only to give us a cabin full of static. We turned knobs and tapped on the display screen.

What if Seth was calling out to me and I couldn't hear? What if they were out there in need of a getaway car? What if… "_Damn windows_!" I pounded on the glass.

"Hold on, hold on," Ethan said. "Take a breath. I'm sure we can find—" And then his window buzzed and slowly rolled downward as he found a little set of switches on his door. "See?"

I wasn't listening. My hungry fingers pushed the matching switch on my door. "Shh…"

Our tires crunched against the dirt and rocks. Abandoned campsites dotted our way in, cold and covered with patches of melting snow. I strained my ears, hearing nothing but a faint ring.

_I know you're out there somewhere…_

The storm was chasing us, unfolding across the sky to preempt the coming night. The forest grew thick and the campsites became fewer and farther between. The winter-dead remains of a meadow stretched out along the left side of the car, endless gray-brown grass that didn't look likely to wake up.

And finally, with a wrench in my stomach like a sudden drop, I spotted the dull light glinting off their cars. My arm shot out, pointing of it's own volition. "There! They're over there." Ethan stepped on the accelerator, but he couldn't drive fast enough for me now. The wind whipped through our empty windowpanes. Hair got in my eyes.

I didn't care.

The cars got ever larger, haphazardly parked in a row, abandoned with doors still open. He slowed the car as we hit the end of the row. I unbuckled and opened the door in almost one motion though the car hadn't fully stopped. I was out and running before he could get a word in, though his voice followed behind me. "Aubree! Wait!"

_Sorry. _

Sounds echoed from around a row of trees, where the motorcycles were parked. "If you come any closer—" It was a man, his voice distorted into nearly a growl.

"Don't you dare!" A woman shouted.

I pulled a hard right around the motorcycles, almost tripping over my own feet. And then I saw. They were just ahead. A jumble of color and sound. He was there. Somewhere. I had only yards to go.

_Seth? _

"Stay back!"

The scene focused in front of me. Edward and Bella. The cousin. Dr. Cullen and his wife. Logan. Trip. Jonah. A man in tattered clothing, sweaty and scowling, his face covered in stubble. He clutched another figure against his chest, supporting him. His knees were bent and turned inward like someone too drunk to stand.

None of it mattered. None of them were Seth.

But beyond them. Past them all…

Maybe we could have waited a little while. Maybe I would have grown up a bit, graduated. Gotten older. The years between us wouldn't always mean as much. Waiting would have been worth it, I think. Maybe when I was more interesting, smarter, taller, curvier. Maybe then we could smile at each other and I could play coy. Or maybe then I would have been brave enough to make the first move. Maybe he would have been interested enough to accept.

The maybes stretched out into infinity, hanging before me for just a moment. The smiles and laughter we would never share. The kisses. The dreams. The wishes. The plans I never dared to make.

His crumpled figure came into sharp focus – sprawled sideways in the dirt like a forgotten doll. He didn't move. Didn't blink. His hands and feet were tied.

And as the arm hooked around my waist, stopping me, holding me back, I didn't realize I was screaming. "Oh, God! Seth!"

_I love you I love you I love you I love you...  
_

_…_


	14. Chapter 14

**A day late. A buck short. **

**Happy birthday, Aubree. Thank you, Jess, for the nudge, and to all those who still send her happy thoughts on FB. Makes me smile. **

**This is unbetaed - sorry if there's errors.  
**

* * *

Part 14

Witness

"No!" I struggled against the grip that held me, only to earn a few bruises in the process. "You have to let me through. Please. _Please_." I was aware of my tears the same way one is aware of wearing a hat. The weight, the feel of them. Not really something you actually think about.

"Shh." Trip's head tilted towards mine. He held fast. _Let go. Let go. Let go. _"It's not safe. Not now."

_If not now, when? _

"It's alright." Dr. Cullen spoke in calm, soothing tones to the sweaty man. Jeremy. The infamous. "Like I said, we only want to talk…"

_Let GO._

Trip lowered his voice to a whisper. "Aubree, stop it. You're not helping anything."

He was just too strong. Damn werewolves.

Seth lay so _still. _Between my struggle and the distance between us, I couldn't even tell if he was breathing. _Please, God, let him be breathing at least. Hurt, yes. But alive. _I needed to stop moving. I needed to look harder. I needed to see, and if they wouldn't let me go to him…

"Ethan?" Jeremy's head snapped over to the space behind me. "Is that you? Ethan?"

"Yeah, it's me." Ethan had caught up. He stepped forward, and Trip pulled me back to allow him room to pass. Why him? Why him and not me?

In the background, Ethan and Jeremy kept up a conversation. I froze, studying Seth, hoping to catch a glimmer of movement.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jeremy asked.

Ethan laughed. "That is a very good question. I really don't belong here, do I?"

"Do you know what you've gotten yourself wrapped up in?"

"Truthfully? No. Not really," Ethan replied.

I stared until I swear I could see spots dancing in between us. My eyes burned. A wind blew past, dragging gravel over Seth's hands, tossing his hair. Empty syringes rolled across the ground. I still couldn't tell if—

"Aubree. Breathe," Trip whispered. He shook me.

Wasn't I doing that? I let out a rush of air and gasped.

"Listen to me," Trip said. "He'll be okay. He's alive, just unconscious. You need to be still. Please. If you run, he'll do something to Jake and none of us want that. Please just stay still and be _quiet._ Seth is okay._" _

"How do you know?" I hissed back.

"The Cullens said they can hear his heart. It's beating. He's breathing."

_Thank God. _

My attention flickered over to the scene between Ethan and Jeremy, now that I had attention to spare. Jeremy was being a little loud.

"Shut up!" he shouted, his face red. He raised a needless syringe to Jake's throat.

Ethan's hands reached out, fingers splayed wide. "Jeremy! Wait! Just wait…I don't understand. _Please_. We're friends, right?"

_Friends? How could anyone be friends with this madman?_

Then again, how could anyone be in love with a werewolf?

Jeremy ordered the Cullens back and they slowly retreated a couple yards, their eyes never wavering. Dr. Cullen held the center spot between Bella and Edward. Edward's cousin squeezed Bella's hand. Emmett and Rosalie held the far end of the line, Mrs. Cullen, Jasper and Alice the end nearest to me. Beyond the inhuman beauty that seemed too obvious now, they all had the same eyes. The exact same eyes.

_Adopted? _

_ Vampires. _

_ Adopted vampires?_

Sounded like a band Will would listen to.

Maybe I was going a little crazy after all.

Seth was bound with thick climber's rope. Probably chafed his skin raw. That is, if he had moved at all, struggled. I couldn't see any red around his wrists. His clothes were dusty, but not horribly so. A pair of cargo shorts I recognized and a green shirt. Something about that tugged at the fringe of my mind.

Jake, on the other hand, looked rougher around the edges. He had been there longer, I guess, and it showed. In the blood spattered across his bare chest. In the cut-off sweatpants that were worn and ragged around the knees and covered in mud.

"Jeremy," Ethan said. "Just tell me. Help _me_ understand all this. Please?"

_Me too. Help me understand. Please?_

Everyone stared as Jeremy relaxed the tiniest bit, looking at the ground, his brow furrowed. And then…

"Do you have any idea what it's like to get so mad at someone that you feel like there's fire in your veins?" Jeremy kept his eyes glued to the ground. "Like you're going to explode? Like really, truly explode? Do you have any idea what that does to a person?"

No one offered any answers.

"I do," Jeremy said.

"I was visiting my parents," he continued. "They were living just outside Olympia at the time. My dad had gone to pick up Tasha from her friend's house. So it was just Mom and I, sitting around, waiting for them to get back so we could go out for dinner. Mom wanted to talk about my future. She always wanted to talk about my future. I wasn't as interested in grad school as she hoped I would be, and I had to admit to her that I hadn't applied anywhere. We had a shouting match about it, as if that would solve anything. The deadlines had long passed."

_So what? _

"I can remember so clearly the moment it tipped over. I hadn't been feeling well most of the day, and when the fight got to its peak, I could feel my skin just…_burning_. I swear it felt like I was going to burst into flames. I screamed at her, and the scream turned into something else. _I _turned into something else."

And only then, I realized what he was saying – it was the story of how he turned into a wolf. The first time.

Jeremy kept on, talking to no one in particular. He tilted the syringe back and forth in his hand. "I don't know how long it lasted. I don't even know how I managed to change back, but when I did, I was standing over my mother's battered and torn body. I was naked and shivering with blood on my hands. She was dead, Ethan. I killed her."

Is that how it happened for Seth, too? Do you have to be angry to become a wolf?

_No. _

I just couldn't picture it. Seth so mad that he would explode into a monster. It was hard to imagine Seth that angry. And Seth seemed the exact opposite of a monster.

Thinking back to my surprise visit that afternoon, Logan had been angry, sure, but not fire-in-the-veins angry. Only miffed. I was just a nuisance in his quest to find Seth. And Trip certainly wasn't mad at me. He was just in a hurry; so much that he destroyed a shirt in his rush to change.

The flip of gray.

So they had to have _some_ sort of control over it. Anger couldn't be the only trigger.

They didn't _have_ to be wolves if they didn't want to, did they?

"…I wandered through forests and cities. Hid in shadows and ran at night, just trying to find out why it was happening to me. _Me_. Why me?" Jeremy asked.

Ethan inched forward.

Jeremy didn't notice. "When I finally got to the point where I could control the change better…" _Yes. _"I was just outside a little town called Shine."

The thought that had been needling the edge of my brain finally broke through.

_Why didn't Seth put up a fight? _

He had been _kidnapped. _And I had to think of all the moments in life when you might actually like the ability to change into some kind of ferocious mythical beast – that was one of them. It has to be a lot harder to catch a wolf. And a preternaturally strong wolf at that…

But his clothes weren't shredded to bits. He was very well clothed, in fact.

Maybe he was drugged. Maybe Jeremy came up behind Seth and he didn't even get a chance to know what was going on. But he didn't even look like he struggled. And how exactly do you sneak up on someone like him?

Was it all a lie?

I turned back to Jeremy, listening intently again, as he talked about the tribe, his family. "I knew then that I wasn't really to blame for my mother's death. It was because of those…these…I wouldn't have killed her if I weren't the way I was. And I wouldn't be the way I was if it weren't for _them_." He coated the word in hate, glaring at the Cullen family.

_Right. Vampires. Werewolves. Enemies. Simple. Easy as pie, really. _

Yes. I was definitely going crazy.

"But…" Ethan grasped at words. "Why do you have to take it out on—"

Jeremy let out the laughter that I kept hidden inside, wild and loud. "That's the BEST PART!" The syringe found its way back to Jake's head. "After months – I don't know, felt more like years – here I thought I was alone. I thought I was the last freakish twist in the family gene pool. I was even planning a trip out here. I was going to come down and meet the tribe and see…just see if I could fit in _somewhere. _I just needed to save up a little money…

"So one day I'm just opening up shop, and who waltzes into my bar? This guy." He shook Jake enough to make his head loll to one side. "_This guy." _

The grin on Jeremy's face hid a twist ending to his story. I could feel it. I watched the way he stood up straighter as he explained his relationship to Jake, how they were related through the generations—which didn't make any sense. There was no way Jake was near old enough to be a great-great-whatever to him. But Jeremy was convinced they were family, and still he held Jake. And still he held the syringe.

Ethan played the reasonable head, and Jeremy lost his smile. "Don't let them brainwash you into thinking they are _anything_ but a scourge on the planet. And it is our duty, our _duty_ to kill them all. And he thinks he's in _love_ with one of them." Jeremy's hand pushed the syringe into Jake's temple. "I said _stay back." _

Ethan went back to work, trying to calm Jeremy down, and I realized: someone was going to die. It was inevitable. There were too many people with too much strength, and too much emotion that could not be resolved. I held the short stick. As well as Ethan. We were few, and we were human. In this little circle campground, a dusty spot amidst a ring of trees, we were far too fragile to survive.

And I was okay with that. But I was just selfish enough to hope, to wish, that others would die before Seth. That perhaps his unconsciousness might save him. His inability to help in the fight might be the reason he made it out alive.

Ethan's voice turned pleading, and I watched my friend—yes, my friend—try not to cry. "Jeremy, how can you win here? You kill them and there's no way the Cullens are going to let you leave. How can you do all the things you want to do if you're dead?"

Jeremy growled. "I don't care."

Ethan nodded. He wiped his eyes. His hands withdrew from his face, and he stared blankly at the ground. He nodded again. And again.

When he finally looked back up at Jeremy, a new resolve had settled in his eyes.

"Jeremy," Ethan said, taking a step forward. "You realize you're crazy, right?"

What the hell was he doing? I opened my mouth to call out, to say something, anything, to distract the new rage directed at Ethan, but Edward said, "Shh…"

Jeremy continued to stare Ethan down. "No. I just…"

"You're trying to kill us all. That's _insane,"_ Ethan said. "And you won't survive this. There's just no way. And then your mother's death will have meant nothing. _You_ killed her, Jeremy. Why? Because she didn't like how you were spending your time? Gee, what a bitch—"

_No. Ethan. Don't do this. _

"Stop it!" Jeremy shouted. "Don't talk about her like—"

"I will talk about her any way I damn please," Ethan laid the irritation on thick. "She's just a woman too stupid to realize what she raised."

Jeremy's hands shook. "Stop it."

"She was just too stupid to realize she should have gotten rid of you when she still could. Freak."

Jeremy's skin began to move, like little ants running under the surface. The hair on his arm stood on end. He clenched his teeth, breathing deep, slow, hissing breaths.

Ethan took another step. "It's her own fault really. Stupid as she was, she didn't _deserve_ to live."

Jeremy broke.

He screamed. His head snapped back. The sound coming out of his mouth morphed into something deeper, darker. In a moment too fast to comprehend, his tall, lean-muscled frame erupted into a creature far more frightening than a wolf. Jake fell to a heap like a puppet with it's strings cut.

Jeremy-wolf's fur was brown-black. He towered over Ethan, taller even now in his new form. His razor teeth dripped with saliva. He leaned back on his haunches, preparing to leap.

He was real. A real werewolf. He was real and he was right there in front of me.

Yes, someone was going to die.

That someone was Ethan.

...

The game was simple: find someone hotter than any of the Cullen kids. Will claimed it was "easy peasy," but Ava and I were not convinced. He pulled a magazine off the rack and flipped it open to a random page.

"How about him?" Will asked. He landed on an ad for a fancy men's watch. The guy in the picture was attractive, sure, as he moved to pose in his suit, looking down at the timepiece on his wrist. But he was blonde, too blonde, and I had never gone for the sun-bleached type. Call me a hometown girl.

"No way," Ava and I said in unison.

Will flipped again, this time landing on a much tanner fellow laying on a beach. _Visit Mexi-Cali!_

Ava laughed. "Nope. Not hotter. You're not going to be able to find anyone, Will. It's just not possible."

I sighed. How could so much beauty be wasted on such unaware, isolation-craving weirdos? "Yeah. It's a tragedy. A Greek tragedy."

Will chuckled. "Yeah, well. I don't agree."

"You wouldn't." Ava smiled conspiratorially. "But if we asked about the girls? Find someone hotter than they are, I dare you."

"I could," Will said, running a hand through the haired side of his head. "If I wanted to. I just don't care. Why should any of us care anyhow? It's completely pointless."

I probably was about to take it too far. _Oh well. _I smiled. "Not even the French cousin? What was her name again? Starts with an 'R.' You know you like her, Will. Admit it."

Ava gasped. "Ew, Will! She's way old. Gross."

"I do not," Will said, blushing. "Shut up, Aubree."

Someone beside us coughed, loud enough to make us all turn our heads. There stood a boy, about our age, thumbing through a gardening magazine. I didn't recognize him, and by the blank stares the other two were giving him, I guessed they didn't have a clue either.

Ava nudged me. "Hey, someone new. There's never anyone new."

"I heard Mrs. Marshall's sister was coming into town with her kid," Will whispered, frowning. "I didn't know it would be so soon."

Ava took a step closer to the boy. "You Mrs. Marshall's nephew?"

He looked up at us, a deer in the headlights. I wanted to laugh. He was still holding the stupid magazine, open to an article about the proper care of petunias.

"Um…yeah." He shifted his weight and looked off towards the registers for a second. "That's me. Ethan. Ethan Powell."

Ava smiled. "Nice to meet you, Ethan. I'm Ava Parson. This is my sister, Aubree. And this freak is Will Yorkie." She gestured abstractly to us.

_Not even a little bit obvious, Ave. _

"Nice to meet you guys." Ethan fidgeted his way forward.

"Where you from, Ethan?" Will asked. He ran a hand through his hair again. He needed to get it cut; it was almost down to his chin. But if I nudged him to the barber, he would come back with a lightning bolt tattoo on the other side or something.

"Polson," Ethan replied. We waited for the explanation. I was personally hoping he was from the east coast. Maybe he could tell me what it was like to live somewhere so far away. Somewhere _populated_. "It's in Montana."

No such luck.

"Oh," Will said.

Ava continued to chat with Ethan as Will and I went back to our magazine. Will lowered his voice. "I wonder who he'll fall for first. Alice, maybe? He looks like an Alice boy." I laughed. "Your sister's got her work cut out for her."

A woman called out, "Ethan?" He said his goodbyes. He ran off to find her and Ava watched him go.

Kid from Big Sky country moves to the rainiest place in the United States?

"Poor guy," I mumbled. "He's going to hate this place."

...

"Ethan!" I shouted, but it did no good.

Jeremy sprung forward, claws outstretched. I held my breath and waited for the blood. But before he could make contact, the Cullens went to work. They also became real. A blurred motion of color pushed Ethan back, and the wolf was only able to scrape his leg. Edward reached the wolf first, shoving him as he snapped and growled. Rosalie and Renesmee ran to attend to Jake, Bella dragged Ethan to a safer flat surface, and the other men surrounded Jeremy. He rushed them one at a time, always too late, teeth biting air. They herded him off to the trees.

All the while, the Quileute boys wandered forward, but kept out of the fight. Trip abandoned me, forgetting I was even there. They came to stand at the forest line, listening. The wolf roared and leaves rustled.

There was a loud crack. A sickening whine.

Bella hung her head. For a moment I thought it was Ethan she mourned. But then she lifted her head again and spoke to the trees. "Carlisle, he could use your help here when you can."

So he had to be alright. He had to.

The forest stilled. My heart and breath became evident in the quiet. As did Seth.

_Seth!_

I ran to him, stumbling over litter and camping gear. I fell to my knees by his head. His mouth hung open, jaw slack. I brushed the hair out of his eyes. The tears fell freely now, and as shameful as it is, I forgot about everything and everyone else. It was so good to hear the short raspy breaths, my crying turned to ragged, choking sobs.

"Wake up," I said. "Please, just wake up and be okay. I promise I don't care about the wolf thing. I know you're not crazy. I was the crazy one. I should have listened. You trusted me with all of this and I just-"

His eyelids fluttered.

* * *

**Siiighhhh. 3**


	15. Chapter 15

**a/n: Hello there. Double update day. For those unawares, I've started a new fic and you should check it out. Click on my profile to see - Brave New World. **

**I dedicate this chapter to the winning winner Nae for her amazingness.  
**

**Song for this chapter is Colorblind by Counting Crows. **

**Love and thanks to all y'all for reading and reviewing. 3

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**

Part 15

Unfolded and Unfolding

First, there was a smile.

Seth's sleepy eyes took me in as I hovered just above him. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Then there was confusion.

He blinked and tried to shift his shoulders, still bound at the wrists and ankles. I tugged at the knots, hurriedly mumbling, "I'm sorry. Sorry…" but the rope wouldn't budge. The broken circle of chafed skin and blood around his wrists made me gag.

His words rushed out, cracked and worn. "Aubree? What are you doing?"

"Your hands." I spoke with choked vowels. "He tied them and—"

"No." He coughed, and his whole body shuddered, the most movement I'd seen from him all day. Color bloomed in his face, a strong red. He frowned. "No, I mean, you're here. Why? What's going on?"

"I made Ethan bring me. You were gone and I had to do something."

Edward came to help. He made quick work of the tangled rope and Seth was free to move again. Not that he did. Edward remained, silent as Seth attempted to sit up and failed. A rush of wind stirred my hair and then the doctor knelt beside me.

"Seth, how are you feeling?" Dr. Cullen felt along Seth's neck. His fingers probed their way up to his skull.

"Dizzy. Sleepy." He coughed again. "Aubree, you shouldn't be here. You—"

"Everything is fine. Everyone will be okay," Dr. Cullen cut in. "Seth, I need you to do me a favor. Can you take a deep breath for me?"

"What happened to the crazy one?" Seth asked, his voice low. He looked at me for a second and then turned back to Dr. Cullen. "Is he still out there? He threatened to—" He tried once more to sit up.

Dr. Cullen laid a hand on his chest. "It's all been taken care of. Don't worry. Take a good breath in. We need to keep that heart rate steady for the time being."

Seth growled.

He _growled. _

Beside me, Dr. Cullen mumbled something I couldn't hear. Our little huddle grew crowded as Alice and Jasper joined in. It all felt like too much. I wanted to back away, to get some air, but I couldn't make myself move.

"Hey," Jasper said. He stooped down to touch Seth on the shoulder.

Seth's eyelids drooped. "No. I just woke up. Please?"

"It's for your heart," Dr. Cullen said. "We need to let the drugs clear out before—"

"Aubree?" Seth's breathing evened out, grew slower, deeper. He closed his eyes, but the frown remained. The color on his face evened out. "You don't owe me anything."

And then he was asleep.

"What happened? Is he okay?" My fingers brushed his arm and withdrew. Was I allowed?

Jasper looked in question to Dr. Cullen.

"He'll be fine," Dr. Cullen said. "Just needs rest. He'll wake up when he's ready. Don't worry."

I couldn't get a grip. I buried my face in my hands and cried, furious at myself for being so fragile. Edward took a few steps back, allowing me room to go to pieces. Alice came to sit beside me.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I wish I could have done this all differently."

"Why?" Alice asked.

"Did you see his face? He was so angry."

"Not at you," Jasper said. "At himself. At the situation. Mostly he was afraid. For you."

"Because I don't belong."

Jasper didn't disagree. "Because it's very dangerous."

I nodded.

The sunny side was that Seth would be okay. And that was all that really mattered. The truth of that sank into my bones, into my gut, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Dr. Cullen lifted his head slightly, cocking an ear away as he spoke to us. "Seth heals rather quickly, and he's been through much worse." He stood. "I'm going to tend to Ethan. If you need anything, just ask."

Alice wrapped an arm around my waist and I didn't question the contact. It was the first time she had ever touched me – the first time any of them had ever touched anyone, that I could remember – but it still felt easy, comfortable.

"I wish I could tell you it'll be okay." She squeezed. "You have no idea how much I wish it." She leaned her head against my arm. I could feel the cold of her cheek through my thin sweater.

"Thanks," I said.

It was only after they had stood and backed away that I realized: she was cold because she was technically dead.

* * *

I am not a mythical creature. I am not magic, nor extraordinary in any way. I doubt I'm even above average.

I am not a vampire. I am not a werewolf.

I am a girl.

Still a girl.

Only a girl.

* * *

After the dust settled, the Cullens stayed only long enough to tell me what to say, if asked, about what happened to Ethan. They took Jake, Seth, and Ethan in the cars, and left me behind with Logan and the other boys. Dr. Cullen assured me, numerous times, that Seth would be right as rain in a couple of days. He said that he was going to take him home to recuperate in his own bed, and that I was welcome to visit him there.

The thought of showing up uninvited made my stomach turn.

Logan agreed to drive me back into town on his bike, and though it was freezing, I was thankful for the inability to talk. I didn't want to face yet another round of reasons why I should have just stayed home and left it all alone. So I let him put his helmet on my head, and didn't say a word.

He dropped me at the railstop without so much as a goodbye. I took a moment to clean myself up in the ladies room. The girl in the mirror didn't look very different than she had that morning. Definitely worse for the wear. Rundown, perhaps. Had anyone asked, and had I been able to answer honestly, I would have said that I was a changed person. After that particular day passed, and the things I had seen…well…

My hair was wild from the drive, my clothes dusty and wrinkled. I shook off as much dirt as I could, splashed water on my face, and ran my fingers through the tangles. There she was again: Aubree Parson – friend of Will, sister to Ava, and all around kind of a bitch. Keeps to herself, mostly, unless she's being sarcastic at you. Enjoys long walks on the beach, but prefers to end them twenty feet below.

In the lobby, I avoided the small crowd of people waiting, choosing to sit alone on a bench in the corner. When the rail pulled up, I picked the car at the end, the emptiest one.

It all felt so normal. Detached. And the longer time went on, the more the whole scene with the Cullens felt like a dream. The sun finally set, and this night was still, clearing, with little pinpricks of stars peeking from behind patchy clouds. I took deep breaths; I stared out the window and let the distance stretch behind me. The space helped. I could feel the blood pulsing at a regular pace under my skin. My nose cleared, and as I swallowed, there was no lump in the way.

I called Will to let him know he should meet us at the hospital. The cover story promise was still in effect, and he was still not allowed to ask why. He didn't argue. Much. And he agreed he would be waiting when we got there.

I could see Ava's silhouette through the window when I pulled up to the stop outside our house. I stepped off the rail and rolled my neck and wrists as I walked. It was time to put on a show.

I ran up to the house, breathing hard on purpose. "Ava! Ava!" I pulled the door open, to find her already standing in wait. "It's Ethan."

Sudden terror painted her face. "What happened?"

"I heard when I was in town with Will. The ambulance drove through and I saw Mrs. Marshall running across the street to the hospital."

"Aubree, _please—"_

"She didn't say what was wrong. Sorry." I reached to the coat hook and grabbed our jackets. "I told Will we would meet him there. Is Mom home?"

"No."

"Call her on the way. Let's go."

* * *

The hospital was quiet. Will stood to greet us as we walked into the lobby of the Emergency Room. He was the only one there so far, and I wondered if anyone had called Ms. Powell.

"Heard anything?" Ava asked, wringing her hands.

"One of the nurses said something about a bear," Will said, a smile on his face. "And that it wasn't a major injury. His leg, mostly. A little bump on his head."

The sigh that escaped Ava was very loud. "He's going to be okay?"

"Sure thing," Will said. "Don't fret. E's tough stuff."

"Is anyone there with him?" I asked.

"His mom's been here, she was the only one allowed back. Dr. Cullen said we could visit later, if he woke up. I called Nate and Char. They're on the way."

"I need to _do_ something," Ava said. "Is there a gift shop?" She paced between us, and I sympathized with her nerves. Miles away, Seth was also laying in bed, healing, hopefully with someone watching over him. Someone who wasn't me. Maybe that girl they had alluded to. That memory was returning. And I was glad he had her now. Glad he had finally found someone. He needed her. Whoever she was.

I wanted to know.

And I didn't.

"I'm sure there is," I said. "Will, call us if there's any news? We're going to hunt up a distraction." I hooked my arm in Ava's.

"And possibly some flowers," she added.

Will saluted. "Try for manly flowers if you can."

I rolled my eyes.

I felt like two people. One of me was worried, incessantly worried, to the point that I was having a hard time keeping up my calm face. Hospitals are used to grief, luckily, and maybe anything that found it's way to the surface just made me another concerned friend.

The other of me was living in a completely different world. One where Seth didn't even exist.

Being two people wasn't easy. Switching back and forth, even in just the span of an afternoon, it was exhausting. Now that I knew about that other world, was I expected to live in it? Would the Cullens seek me out at school, make me a part of their little group? Now that I held their most precious secrets close to my heart, did that give them a claim on mine?

I wasn't sure if I wanted that.

We rounded the corner and Ava sighed again. Our footsteps echoed off the polished floor. Blinking lights of different colors ran along the wall, directing people to the various wings. We chose purple as it promised a café and gift shop.

"I can't believe this is happening," Ava said. "I've never even been to the hospital before. I hope he's okay…"

And how did Seth factor into it all? If they expected me to be friends, to be a part of their world, I would no doubt see him again. And again. With his girl, or girls, or whatever girl he ended up with.

Ava continued, "Do you think he'll be okay for the dance? I mean if it was his leg and all, what if he can't walk?"

I could bear the two worlds, perhaps, if it meant I also got to keep Seth for myself. I could be friends with outcasts. I could live with secrets, maybe. But I couldn't do it alone. Sure, I was in love with him. But did that mean I was ready for wolves and danger, vampires and death, all from a distance, always watching him from afar?

Worst of all, he was older. I was younger. This was very much _not allowed_.

I wanted to laugh at myself. As if any of it was up to me._ Don't be silly, Aubree. _

Then again, maybe things would remain unchanged. Maybe the Cullens would go back to ignoring me. Maybe I would never see Seth again.

Ava's grip on my arm grew painful. "What if they have to replace it with a fake one? What if—"

"I'm in love with someone," I said.

Ava shut up.

She stared at me for a moment, her steps slowing. I pulled her along and waited for her eyes to return to…anywhere else, really. When they found their way to the distant end of the hall, I continued. "And I probably should have told you sooner, but it's complicated."

She kept her voice low. "How so?"

I opened my mouth and closed it again. _He's a werewolf. _"He's older than us."

"A lot older?"

"Enough older."

"Oh."

"And he certainly doesn't feel the same way. In fact, I'm pretty sure he has a girlfriend."

"Oh."

"And I have no idea what to do about it. Besides nothing, obviously." I shrugged.

"Is he the one you were visiting?" she asked quietly.

I nodded. As much as the truth hurt, it was starting to feel good to talk about it. Especially with Ava. They aren't kidding with that whole 'weight off your shoulders' saying. I needed a girl's input. I need my sister.

"Is it that guy from the mechanic's place?" she asked.

"No. A friend of his, though." We turned another corner and I could see the gift shop ahead on the left. "It's pretty hopeless."

"Maybe someday? When he breaks up with her? When you're a little older?"

I smiled. "Should I really hold out for that?"

"No." She squeezed my hand. "If he doesn't feel the same way, he doesn't deserve you. Maybe you should let him go, if he's in love with someone else."

I squeezed her hand in return. "You're probably right."

She made a weak attempt at a smile and disappeared into the shop. I waited behind.

* * *

**Thoughts? **

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